


The Hobbit: an Unexpected Love

by Martina



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, Denial, Flirting, Fluff, Internal Conflict, Love at First Sight, M/M, Relationship(s), Secret Relationship, Showing Off, Slow Build, Smut, True Love, Unrequited Love, a lot of it, adorableness, courting, dub-con, fail, for now, it'll get worse-- I mean better, just a little, patience - Freeform, possesive behavior, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Martina/pseuds/Martina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins finds himself in a houseful of dwarves. </p><p>Two of the dwarves find something they weren't expecting to find.</p><p>When two dwarves want the same thing, conflict ensues. </p><p>Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finding Bilbo

Thorin would have done better to buy a map to find Bag End. 

He wandered around the Shire all day, trudging through tall blades of grass and babbling brooks to reach his destination. He'd sent the ceaseless talking of Fili and Kili, his traveling companions and nephews, away to find the 'burglar's house on their own. He figured he could use some time to himself before embarking on this journey.  
It hadn't taken him long to realize he was lost. The rolling green hills of the shire all looked the same to him, and he felt like he was simply going in circles. Every hobbit he passed threw him odd looks of curiosity, fear and wonder. No one approached him, except to ask if he was lost. 

No, of course he wasn't lost. He was Thorin oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the mountain. And a dwarf of that high standing was never lost, he was merely exploring on the way to his ultimate destination. 

His pride prevented him from accepting directions or a map and thus getting to Bag End on time. In this way, his pride prevented him from winning the heart of his One. But Thorin couldn't have known that, not yet. 

While Thorin Oakenshield wandered around Hobbiton, the sun beginning to set on the horizon, his company was having a party without him; a party at Bag End.

 

Dwalin had arrived first, then Balin, then Fili and Kili. Then the rest had fallen- literally- into Bilbo Baggins' home. Eight dwarves toppled onto eachother as the hobbit opened the door, falling onto his doormat. 

Poor Bofur was on the bottom of the pile, directly under two of the heaviest members of the company: Gloin and Bofur's own brother, Bombur. 

In the immediate aftermath of the door opening, Bofur didn't take much time to evaluate his surroundings. He stood up, clearing his head and straightening his heavy jacket and tunic and pulling his hat back on. 

"Bombur, must ye be so heavy?" Bofur asked playfully, shoving his brother's shoulder with a smile. Bombur just shrugged and walked wide-eyed towards the pantry. 

That's when Bofur saw Him. Bilbo Baggins, standing before him in a patchwork robe, looking quite flustered and unhappy. Immediately, the toy maker dwarf knew that this Hobbit was his One. 

From his fawn colored curls to his humongous hobbit feet, everything about him cried out to Bofur. The dwarf had never felt this sensation before, this tremendous thrill at the sight of another. For a moment he feared he was unable to speak, but the rush of dwarves invading the hobbit hole stirred him out of his revery. The dwarf regained his composure and followed the others to the pantry, trying not to give away what had just happened to him.

 

To put it briefly, Bilbo was thoroughly appalled by the sight of his kitchen later that evening. The dwarves had ransacked the pantry, pillaging his lifetime supply of jam, taking everything from sun ripened tomatoes to his moldy blue cheese. He had been left in a state of devastation, unsure of how to go about restocking his shelves.

Once they'd all taken seats in the dining room, the dwarves threw more dinner food than they ate, or so it seemed to Bilbo. They burped and yelled and were generally rude to the point where Bilbo almost shouted at the lot of them. But whenever bilbo felt he was on the edge of blowing up, his eye would be caught be Bofur and the anger would dissipate considerably. The dwarf's warm, ever present smile and perky braids under that ridiculous hat gave bilbo an odd feeling that he couldn't quite place. Although this feeling was foreign to him, Bilbo liked the rush this simple, toy making, mining dwarf gave to him.

 

After realizing that Bilbo was clearly upset and in the need for entertainment, Bofur decided to impress his host and love by beginning a song. Bofur had quite a voice, and thought Bilbo would be entertained and charmed by a song about him while the dwarves cleaned up his dining room. 

But of course, that plan backfired. The hobbit, already irritated, found the song mildly insulting, and thought the whole business was entirely unrespectable.  
But Bilbo had to admit, he did enjoy Bofur's lilting, happy voice, and the way the dwarf smiled at him when he thought no one was looking.  
Hardly a moment after the dwarves finished their cleanup song, there were three loud knocks on the door. 

Thorin Oakenshield had found Bag End.

 

Thorin saw Gandalf first. He greeted the wizard, blaming him for the difficulty to find this house. 

Gandalf ignored the blame of the stubborn dwarf king and turned to Bilbo. 

"May I introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf stepped aside, and Thorin's gaze found Bilbo. 

That was when Thorin's world changed. For two dwarves found their One true Love that evening. And it was the same respectable hobbit receiving their attentions. 

Thorin had a heart of stone, and knew this hobbit would be nothing but a weakness on this quest. He had to push him away, try to leave him here in the Shire.


	2. Tea with Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo can't sleep. 
> 
> Neither can some of his guests.

Thorin was led into the dining room and served soup. The company all sat down around Bilbo's low lit, and completely cleaned off,dining table, discussing their mission to reclaim Erebor from Smaug the dragon. Bilbo was in shock at being invited on a quest that could very well lead to his death by incineration. 

Bofur tried to comfort him, to put the terrifying idea of a dragon into simpler words, to try to convince Bilbo to come along with him. Instead, he made Bilbo faint in terror. 

'Furnace with wings?' How could he have thought that would comfort Bilbo? How could he have said something so insensitive to him? Bofur was mentally kicking himself for the idiotic drivel that had escaped his lips. Later on, he sat awake, still thinking of how he might have ruined his chance with his One.

As the group settled down and prepared for slumber, Bilbo was walking to his room when he noticed one Dwarf sitting up by the fire, his hat and braids silhouetted by the orange flames It seemed sleep was eluding him as well. The hobbit couldn't help but feel bad for the dwarf with such a lovely voice, being in the same restless position himself. He was too nervous about the thought of the quest he had been encumbered with to get to bed. Slowly, silently, he crept up beside the dwarf and sat on the floor next to him. 

Clearing his throat, the dwarf with the funny hat turned to face him. Alarm flashed in his eyes, then quickly faded to relief and happiness. Bilbo cleared his throat once more, in preparation to speak. 

"Bofur, I can't sleep, and, um, I see you can't sleep as well. Would you uh...like something to drink?" The smile that spread across the dwarf's face as he nodded was so genuine that it touched Bilbo's heart. His polite hobbitly ways had gotten the best of him, even though he had been wildly upset with all of them earlier. But seeing Bofur looking so distressed sparked a bit of sympathy in Bilbo, making him long to comfort the dwarf.The two got up to go make some tea, quietly leaving the rest to their snoring. They walked into the kitchen and Bofur sat at the small dining table facing the fireplace, beyond ecstatic that he had some alone time to talk to his Love. 

"What's on your mind, Bilbo?" He asked sincerely as the hobbit started to heat up some water. 

"Quite a lot, actually," Bilbo huffed, annoyed that Bofur even had to ask that question. But the hurt look on the dwarf's face made Bilbo reconsider his tone. "I'm sorry, I just have a lot to consider right now. While the idea of facing a 'furnace with wings' does sound tempting," Bilbo joked, getting some mugs out of his cupboards. "I can't help but think that I should go on this... adventure," hopelessness flooded his voice as the hobbit sat down across from Bofur, burying his head in his hands. "I just don't know what to do," he admitted. 

 

Bofur could hardly bear to see his hobbit so distressed. It was unusual in dwarvish culture to lay so plainly one's emotions before someone you just met. Bofur was a little caught off guard by this vulnerable hobbit, and was unsure how shire folk handled situations like this. But he tried his best to understand. After all, this was Bilbo Baggins he was talking to. Bofur's meaning in life now was to protect this hobbit and to make him happy. 

"Bilbo, if you don't want to go," Bofur started, trying to find the right words. Luckily he didn't have to. Bilbo stopped him with a look so sad that Bofur's breath was taken from his chest. 

"I want to go," Bilbo said, faint evidence of tears in his eyes shining in the candle light. "I want to see what the world is like beyond the shire, I really do. But... But," Bilbo's words died out and he let out a heavy breath, throwing his hands down on the table in defeat. Bofur, without thinking, reached out and took the small hobbit's hand in his own, caressing Bilbo's skin to calm him down.

"Don't worry about any of that, mister Bilbo," Bofur said warmly, a smile of comfort below the top of his flippy mustache. "Whatever ye decide, let it be what yer heart wants."

Bofur's smile and friendly- maybe more than friendly?- eyes did make Bilbo feel better. The dwarf's fingers, rough from a long lifetime of hard work, felt foreign and exciting against the privileged hobbit's own soft hands. 

"What would your heart tell you?" Bilbo asked, forgetting completely about the boiling water behind him. 

Bofur was caught off guard by this question, and took a moment to consider his answer. It was a moment of thought he should not have taken. 

Heavy footsteps came from the hall behind Bofur, and Bilbo immediately withdrew his hands from the compassionate dwarf, standing up and attending to the tea pot. 

"Would you like some tea, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked, a little embarrassed as the wizard sat down beside Bofur. 

"Yes, please," Gandalf said with a bit of a knowing smirk aimed at the dwarf next to him, who had a very not-dwarf-like blush beneath his styled facial hair. "I see we're all having trouble sleeping. Perhaps a quick story over tea would help?"

"Oh, please do," Bilbo said politely as he poured the tea. 

"I think, a little story about dwarves would be appropriate for this evening," Gandalf began, stirring his tea absently as he settled into his chair. "Did you know, Bilbo, that dwarves only love one person for their whole life?"  
Bofur stirred uncomfortably as Bilbo shook his head 'no.' 

"It's true," the dwarf said quietly, unable to keep from speaking, even in situations like this. 

"Isn't it true, master Bofur," Gandalf asked, "that once a dwarf meets his 'One,' he knows immediately? And once a dwarf meets this person, they will never stop loving them, and will do everything in their power to win their heart?" 

"Yes, 'tis true," Bofur said quietly. 

"Fascinating," Bilbo muttered, sipping his tea. "And so every dwarf is paired up with another? It's a wonder there aren't more dwarves running around," he snickered. "Not that I want any more in my house, mind you."

"That's not entirely correct, Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf challenged, looking to Bofur. 

"Yes, well, sometimes it doesn't quite work out. The pairin's don't always match up. Just because one dwarf is destined for another, it does not mean that that dwarf is destined for him. D'ye see?" Bofur was a little sad to have to say that out loud; he generally preferred to stay optimistic. Until tonight, he'd spent his life hoping that he would one day find his love and that they would love him back. He'd never expected to be fated for a hobbit. Bofur didn't mind, a hobbit could make him just as happy as any dwarf, but it did complicate things. After all, hobbits did not have the strong, single-minded sense of love that dwarves possessed. 

"How odd," Bilbo commented, unaware of the look of longing on the toymaker's face. "Hobbits have such a complicated system for love and marriage. We have years and years of courting and experimentation; years to decide if we do actually love our potential wife or husband. Dwarves have it so much simpler," he said this in an almost wistful tone. It felt good to talk about something like hobbit customs, something so familiar to him. But these words that comforted Bilbo made Bofur a little sad. 

Bofur sat silent for a moment in thought. So Bilbo could choose who he wanted to love. The toymaker couldn't imagine a respectable hobbit like Mr. Baggins choosing to spend his life with a dwarf. 

"Have you found your One, Bofur?" Bilbo asked to keep up the conversation. This question prompted an immediate response of shock from the dwarf, not expecting to be asked this question so forwardly by his One.

"Well, no... You see I.." Bofur, flustered and cautious, couldn't quite find any acceptable words to say to that. Gandalf smiled wider than usual, gently nudging Bofur with his elbow. 

"Why yes, good question, Bilbo! Have you met your One, Bofur?" This question seemed as if he was asking not just out of curiously, but for Bofur's sake. Gandalf, like the dwarves, didn't care when it came to gender; he only looked out for the sake of his dwarven companions. Gandalf was pushing Bofur on, hoping his assumptions were right and the dwarf would act on his feelings for Bilbo. Leaving an opening in the conversation, Bofur cleared his throat to speak, when he was interrupted by the entrance of Thorin Oakenshield to the room. 

 

Pausing in the doorway to look upon the scene before him, the king noticed his One sitting particularly close to Bofur. This was unacceptable. 

"All of you... Get to bed. We have a long journey ahead of us." Silence followed as Bilbo and Bofur immediately ran out, giving each other one last parting glance before heading their separate ways. Gandalf lingered, curious as to what had brought on this rage of Thorin's. He wasn't sure, but he had a very good guess as to the cause. 

"You know Thorin, I am an extremely perceptive wizard, though I may not look it. Now I want you to be honest when answering this question. Is there more than one dwarf who met his One tonight?" 

"I wish I could tell you confidently no, Gandalf. But that question is not one I'd like to answer," Thorin gave a sad sigh as he looked down the hall Bilbo had exited through. "Gandalf, Mr. Baggins will not come. It would be better if my company and myself forget about him entirely."  
Gandalf was not in the mood to argue with the bull headed dwarf. He bid Thorin good night and went to lay down and have a smoke. 

 

Thorin tried to settle down as well, but he could not sleep. His head was occupied by thoughts of a so-called burglar who was not coming on Thorin's quest. A burglar Thorin wished was coming. A burglar Thorin needed with him. A hobbit who was keeping a king's sleep away from him.

 

Bilbo got only a few winks of rest. The daunting idea of the quest occupied him into the wee hours of the night, and brief dreams of adventure and peril haunted his sleep. 

 

Bofur, on the other hand, slept quite well. The memory of Bilbo's hand in his own was enough to put him straight to a very restful sleep, full of hopeful dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like they needed to have this discussion, and I promise things pick up a bit in the next chapter:)
> 
> I hope you like it, and feedback is always, always, always appreciated!:)


	3. Ponies for Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo doesn't know how to ride a pony or dress for cold weather. 
> 
> Dwarves do.

The next morning, Thorin and his company had silently left Bilbo's home, preparing their horses and departing from Bag End, following Gandalf.   
Thorin stayed to the front of the line, keeping strong and confident in front of his people. But his mind was eating away at him, the sight of Bilbo and Bofur so close together at the table last night gnawed at the king. 

No, Thorin! He thought to himself. Keep yourself under control. Mr Baggins is behind you forever. 

Bofur kept towards the back of the line, hoping silently that Bilbo would turn up. The toy maker tied his horse to his cousin Bifur's, who rode in front of him. Bofur took out a block of crafting wood from his bag and began to whittle away, shaping something that started to look a bit like the mugs in Bag End.   
As he worked carefully on the handle, he heard a familiar voice crying "wait!" coming from behind him. 

"It's Bilbo!" Bofur called, a mile wide smile firmly sealed on his lips. 

"I signed it," Bilbo said happily, handing his contract to Balin for approval. The old dwarf announced everything was in order and Thorin sized up the hobbit, eyes lingering appreciatively on the full, rich form suggested under Bilbo's garments. 

"Someone get him a pony," Thorin decreed, turning his own horse away quickly before anyone noticed the fire of passion beginning to ignite in his own body. 

Bilbo blabbered a bit about not wanting a pony before Fili and Kili lifted him up by the shoulders, Kili gathering him up in one strong arm. The rascally prince called to Bofur, who was nearby, had plenty of room on his pony, and was tied to Bifur's pony, freeing him from the distraction of guiding Daisy. 

"Bofur, room for one more?" 

"Oh, of course!" The toymaker agreed eagerly, scooting backwards on the back of his pony, Daisy, and putting the unfinished wooden mug into his pack. Kili slowed his own pony to match pace with Daisy and deposited Bilbo on her back, setting him down very close in front of Bofur, his little hobbit body rigid. "Y'all right, Bilbo?" Bofur asked, wrapping his arms around the nervous, shaking hobbit to hold him steady. 

"I've never ridden horseback in my life," Bilbo muttered, very peeved by the handling he'd received from Kili. 

"Oh, don't ye worry about tha'," Bofur whispered encouragingly, his lips just behind Bilbo's ear. He felt the hobbit shift his position, moving to sit closer to Bofur. Perhaps it was strictly functional readjustment, but Bofur thought he saw a slightly mischevious smile curl up on his true love's mouth. "I've got you nice and steady, ye know, I won't let ya fall," Bofur continued in a hushed tone just for Bilbo, truly meaning his words. His simple speech caressed Bilbo's blushing skin and took over the hobbit's thoughts. 

"Mr. Bofur, I do thank you for your kindness," Bilbo stammered, his brain cluttered by stirrings in his body he did not recognize. Bofur's solid, protective arms around him, his exotic and gentle voice in Bilbo's ear, even the tickle of his mustache against the back of his neck made Bilbo's body heat up and his mind begin to go soft. 

"No need for tha', laddie," Bofur whispered, and, in a moment saturated with and controlled by love, he bent his head down to briefly press his lips against the side of Bilbo's neck. The kind dwarf's head was immediately filled with joy, his entire body warmed by the elation of being allowed to even touch someone so special as Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo shivered a little at this new kind of contact, and a smile spread on Bofur's cheery face, happy that his attentions were well received, even if maybe the acceptance was only out of hobbit curiosity. 

 

Thorin chose this moment to turn around. He told himself he needed to check on his company, make sure his people were all accounted for, but he wasn't suprised when his eyes immediately went to Bilbo. Thorin flared into anged at the sight of the hobbit riding with Bofur, the dwarf's lips upon the delicate skin of Thorin's only Love. 

Thorin could not have been more enraged. When he'd said 'get him a pony,' he didn't mean 'put him with the dwarf who might take my hobbit from me!' 

Thorin caught himself there. Bilbo was not 'his hobbit.' He was just A hobbit. And if Bofur wanted him, he could very well take him. It meant nothing to a royal dwarf. 

At least that's what he told himself. 

 

The happy, dazed look on Bilbo's face had said it all. Few members of the company aside from Thorin seemed to notice Bofur's bold affections, but it certainly left Bilbo himself with a head full of thoughts. Had it been an accident? Was Bofur just trying to be nice? Well, that couldn't have been it, judging by the firm feeling of him digging into Bilbo's back. A large part of it made him incredibly uncomfortable, and confused. But a tiny bit of him, just the tiniest sliver of him liked it. Craved it, in fact. The hobbit had never had contact of that nature with anyone, and of course he was highly curious to experience it. Just one more of life's adventures. 

They all rode in mostly uneventful, calm silence until nightfall, the only conversation occurring between Gandalf and Bilbo. Fili and Kili would occasionally make some 'witty' comment at the expense of various members of the company, but everyone ignored them. The dwarves were mostly occupied with daydreams, hopeful fantasies of Erebor. Once the sun started to go down and the ponies began to slow, the company found a small cave and cliff to stop in. 

Gloin started a fire and Bombur began preparing stew. Everyone was cold, huddled closely around the warmth, smoking their pipes and reminiscing. 

 

Bofur gravitated to Bilbo, sitting beside his One and putting his arm around him in an effort to warm him. Bilbo appreciated the warmth, but wasnt sure exactly how to respond to the strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. The dwarves only stayed awake for a fairly short amount of time, telling legends of dwarven homelands around the fire.

Things eventually wound down, and Bofur fell asleep, arm still around Bilbo. As far as he could tell, everyone was asleep except whoever was on watch. Maybe Thorin was watching, Bilbo wondered offhandedly. Bilbo slid out of Bofur's arm and walked towards the prettiest pony of the lot, Myrtle, longing for a moment to himself. 

"Here you go, Myrtle," Bilbo cooed quietly to his pony, holding out a shiny red apple. "It'll be our little secret," he whispered conspiratorially as Myrtle gobbled up the sweet fruit. 

"Getting attached to your animal, are you, Mr. Baggins?" A low, deep voice came from behind Bilbo, giving the hobbit a bit of a fright. He whipped around to see the speaker, and was relieved to see it was only Thorin rather than some evil monster. 

"Well, yes, I suppose so," Bilbo sputtered out, a little afraid of the powerful dwarf king. "I'm sorry I gave her an apple, should I have not done that? I'm just not sure what to- I'm just sorry, I'll go to sleep now, good night," Bilbo bowed awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Thorin, and started to leave.

"No. Stay up with me," Thorin requested in what sounded more like a commanding tone than anything gentle. "I'm on watch, and I would very much enjoy some company, burglar," the king explained with a bit of a sneer, still a sense of bitterness in his voice. He did not like that this little hobbit made him so feeble and soft. He resented the hobbit's incredible effect on him, and therefore resented the hobbit. At least, he tried to. But every dark thought he tried to think of Bilbo was shot down by a deep feeling of longing for this so called burglar. 

"Yes, Thorin," Bilbo obeyed like a school child, turning to face him, still refusing to meet Thorin's icy blue eyes. 

There was a silence, not a comfortable one. Bilbo was scared and Thorin didn't know what to say. But he desperately wanted to say something. Anything.   
"This is your horse?" Thorin asked finally, immediately hating himself for being so obvious in his chosen conversational topic. 

"Yes. Well, no, not really. I rode with Bofur today, his pony's name is Daisy," Thorin grimaced a little at the memory of seeing Bilbo and Bofur together on the horse. Their secretive moment of intimacy still pained Thorin, no matter how much he would've liked to deny it. "But this one, Myrtle, is my favorite. She's got green eyes, like the door to Bag End," Bilbo's explanation brought him back to memories of the Shire, which he sorely missed already. His eyes grew distant, his voice had drifted off, and Thorin didn't know what to do next. 

"I could teach you how to ride your own pony, if you like," Thorin offered abruptly, wanting an excuse to be with his hobbit- No, Thorin corrected himself again. THE hobbit, not HIS, - and keep Bilbo away from Bofur and his romantic horseback habits. "You could even have Myrtle if you want," This elaboration forced Bilbo to make suprised eye contact with the king, finally. 

"But she's Dwalin's horse!" Bilbo exclaimed, shocked that Thorin could make such an offer. 

"Doesn't matter," Thorin assured the hobbit in a voice thick with sonething that might have been heavy lust. Passion for this small, insignificant hobbit was driving the king mad. He wanted to give Bilbo everything he could, shower the 'burglar' with gifts and riches, and even ponies. It didn't matter that Myrtle belonged to someone else, that didn't matter to Thorin in the slightest. He was Dwalin's king, and that made Myrtle property of King Thorin in Thorin's mind. The majestic dwarf held Bilbo's gaze with his own, moving closer to the hobbit without really knowing why. Bilbo noticed the closing gap between them, and took a few sharp steps back towards the campsite.

"I think I'll learn on my own, thank you," Bilbo declared indignantly, deciding he'd had quite enough of dwarves' interesting ideas on personal boundaries for one day. "Good night, Thorin," he said quickly, remembering his manners. He hurried back to camp, returning to his spot near Bofur. 

 

Bilbo was freezing, the fire was mostly dead. He curled up into himself and shivered, his teeth audibly chattering.   
His noises of discomfort woke the light-sleeping Bofur, who murmured a few words about the neglected fire before shifting closer to the back of his chilly hobbit. 

"Bilbo, come here, yer turning into an ice sickle," Bofur whispered gently, wrapping his arms around Bilbo, who made no move to accept or refuse the heat radiating from the dwarf. "Yer not dressed for a trip like this," noted the toymaker, taking this opportunity to stroke the thin material of Bilbo's white shirt. "Remind me to give ye some proper clothes tomorrow."

Bilbo hummed in sleepy agreement at that suggestion and finally surrendered to Bofur's warmth, cuddling as close to him as he could, holding the dwarf's strong hands so they remained wrapped around his small, shivering body. 

Bofur slept with a smile that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1000 hits chapter, and the last one I'll post for probably a few days. 
> 
> I wasnt sure about this chapter, but after it was written I couldn't bring myself to go change anything, so here it is:)
> 
> Thanks for reading this story, and hopefully enjoying it:) 
> 
> I <3 feedback


	4. On the Road With Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams and dwarves and weather confuse Bilbo. 
> 
> Some dwarves try to help him out.

Bilbo awoke later than usual the next morning, his dreams having been riddled with thoughts of Bofur and Thorin.

In the dream, everything around him was dark. He was in the midst of a great fog, the opaque tendrils slowly engulfing him. The only sound he heard was his own ragged breathing. Bilbo frantically turned his head from side to side, looking for any way out of this seemingly abysmal hell. All of a sudden, he felt a strong arm reach across his chest in a possessive manner. Turning up to face the dominant one holding him, he realized it was Thorin. He gasped, unsure of what to do, and instantly he was rendered speechless. The only emotion coursing through his veins was fear, yet he did not know why. As quick as the fog had come, it rapidly left, being replaced with a bright white light. Thorin was still enrobed in black. His arm fell away, and Bilbo apprehensively walked forward. The closer he got to the light, the more distinctive a form appeared. It was Bofur, smiling away as always. He reached out, offering up his arms to the hobbit. Turning back, he noticed Thorin doing the same. Equidistant from both dwarves, he did not know where he belonged. The cries of both of them screaming for Bilbo startled him awake. 

He opened his eyes to the sight of real, living, awake Bofur himself, handing him a plate of eggs with a smile. His face was warm and comforting, unlike the freezing cold air around him. His smiling brown eyes helped Bilbo forget the confusing terror of his dream. Bilbo was grateful for that, he really didnt want to try to comprehend what that dream might have meant. So he let it be pushed out of his mind by the appealing idea of breakfast. 

"Morning mister Baggins. Thought ye could use some energy. We've got a long ride ahead of us." Bilbo smiled, gratefully accepting the meal. He had been hungry ever since he had left home, for it was well known that dwarves had a much smaller appetite than hobbits. He scarfed down the eggs so eagerly that he inspired quite the chuckle from Bofur, and an enraged glance from Thorin. This look greatly confused the poor hobbit, for he had no idea what he had done to anger the dwarven king. But it was very apparent to Bilbo that he held nothing but contempt for their so called "burglar". 

After eating, the company loaded up their horses and prepared to continue on. Bilbo started happily towards a smiling Bofur and Daisy, figuring that their riding together was a permanent arrangement. But Thorin, as much as he told himself he mustn't have anything to do with the hobbit, couldn't restrain himself from calling out to Bilbo to stop. 

"You, burglar! You won't inconvenience any one member of my company more than one day in a row. You will not ride with Bofur today," Thorin's rumbling voice was firm, and Bilbo didn't think it would be smart to argue. The hobbit, eyes fixed on the ground, turned away from Bofur to face the direction of Thorin Oakenshield, lest the king yell at him for not paying attention. 

"Thorin, it really is no trouble to take 'im with me," Bofur countered Thorin's decision, hoping he didn't sound too desperate to have the hobbit with him. The toymaker looked to Bilbo, who would not face him. Kili noticed the sad dwarf's expression, and took pity on him. 

"Yes, Thorin, Bofur's got a large pony, plenty room for an extra hobbit," Kili piped up, wanting to defend poor Bofur whom the prince could tell wanted nothing more than to be close to Bilbo. 

"Quiet, Kili!" Fili begged, wishing his brother would just agree with their uncle all the time. Things would be so much easier that way. As it was, Kili received a sharp, reprimanding glare from his uncle. 

"No!" Thorin demanded. "Mr. Baggins, you ride with Gloin." This was his final word on the matter. He mounted his own pony and started away, not sending any more glances to any one in his company. He didnt want anyone to see the sadness on his handsome face, sadness at the absence of Bilbo Baggins from his presence. 

 

Gloin pulled Bilbo up to his pony with a grunt, situating the hobbit as far away from him as possible and making no effort at conversation. After only a few minutes, Bilbo sorely missed Bofur and his tender kindness. 

He also missed Bofur's warmth. The hobbit had forgotten to remind the dwarf to lend him 'proper clothes.'

Thw dwarves rode on all day without a rest, all the while singing songs about how they would soon take back Erebor and what they would each do with their treasure. Gandalf and Thorin were leading the group, and appeared to be in a heated discussion as to where the group should head next. From what Bilbo could overhear, it sounded like the grey wizard wished to pass through Rivendell. As much as it seemed the two were attempting to speak in hushed tones, everyone could hear how outraged Thorin was at this suggestion. 

 

Bilbo was curious, and longed to talk to him, to see what exactly was going on. He made up his mind then and there that he was going to find out more about Thorin, King under the mountain.

He didn't have much opportunity to see either Bofur or Thorin while the party travelled, since Gloin preferred to ride near his brother, Oin. But, after hours and hours of talk of treasure that bored the hobbit, the sun began to set ad Thorin decided to make camp. 

It was at a small, abandoned farm that Thorin saw fit to make camp at. Gandalf didn't seem to like the king's decision, and had an argument with him. The argument was beyond Bilbo's ability to hear, especially since Balin, an old scholarly warrior, had pulled Bilbo into a discussion about the purpose of blue cheese. Gandalf ended up storming off alone, seeking solace from dwarves and their stubbornness. Bilbo saw this as his opportunity.

The small hobbit mustered all the courage he could find in himself and shuffled up to Thorin, who was standing off by himself, looking pensively into the distance. 

"Thorin," Bilbo tried to begin, but found his voice dry and cracked. His ears reddened, and Bilbo could feel it, but their was no turning back now. Thorin turned around to look at the hobbit, trying hard not to smile that the hobbit wanted to speak with him. Bilbo cleared his throat and started again, still avoiding the cold stare of the king. "Thorin, I'm sorry about how I treated you last night, it was... rude of me to reject your offer so quickly." 

"Bilbo, why do you not look at me?" Thorin asked, touched and encouraged by Bilbo's nervous apology. The tomato-red burglar before him made Thorin's heart of stone soften, just a little. Just soft enough to allow a slight smile to play on his lips. 

"Umm.. Well, I, uh," Bilbo stuttered with no small amount of difficulty, not having a good answer for Thorin. His true answer was that the dwarf king intimidated and scared the simple hobbit. 

"Look at me, Bilbo," Thorin said sharply, the smile gone. He reached out a rough hand and lifted the hobbit's small chin so Bilbo finally met Thorin's darkening eyes. 

 

Bilbo flinched, finding it hard to maintain a gaze into such piercing blue eyes. The horror of last night's dream was haunting the hobbit. Through no fault of his own, Thorin appeared to Bilbo as a nightmarish figure, sheathed in darkness. Someone to be feared. Thorin snapped back to his wits when he realized Bilbo was beyond uncomfortable, and released the burglar's chin. 

"Thorin, I-" Bilbo wanted to apologize, apologize for fearing the king, for flinching at his touch, for somehow angering him, for everything. But he couldn't bring words to pass his lips. 

"No, don't," Thorin interjected, holding a hand up and now looking at the ground like a commoner. It was not often that a hobbit could bring a king to evade eye contact. "Thank you for your apology." With that quiet, almost shy thanks, Thorin ended the conversation with his Love. Thorin walked away to camp, seeking to talk of familiar, warrior things with Dwalin or Balin or anyone but Bilbo. Thorin couldn't take any more of that feeling the hobbit gave him tonight. 

Bilbo was left stuttering in confusion. He was sure he hasn't said anything wrong. He raked through his memories of the last two days, searching desperately to find anything he might've done to cause Thorin Oakenshield to act so strangely around him.

Bilbo sat down in the vacant space under the frame of the old cabin, trying to get his thoughts together. He gathered his knees into his chest, his almost numbed body taking note of the night time chill even is his mind was too busy to notice. 

His mind was also too busy to notice a kind dwarf in a funny hat with pigtail braids approaching him. 

"What're ye doin all the way out here, Bilbo?" Bofur asked, taking a seat beside the thoughtful hobbit, who started at the sound of the dwarf's voice. 

"I... Um, I was thinking," explained Bilbo. A sudden shiver racked his body, giving his mind cause to notice the frigid feeling in his body. 

"Thinkin too much isn't always good for ye, mister Bilbo," Bofur teased, starting to undo the fastenings on his heavy leather outer jacket. "Neither is shiverin out here alone," he added, playfully elbowing Bilbo's side. The hobbit rewarded Bofur with a sincere laugh and an appreciative smile, not afraid to meet Bofur's sweet brown eyes. The toymaker matched his hobbit's smile and undid the final fastening of his jacket. "We don't want ye to go freezin solid, do we?" He asked with a genuine smile of concern, reaching up to remove his unique hat and offer it to Bilbo. 

"Oh, no, I couldn't," Bilbo protested with a chuckle, feeling entirely at ease in this dwarf's company. 

"I don't care," Bofur said with a wink, placing the hat on top of Bilbo's lovely curls. Immediately they both burst out into hearty laughter. The hat was made for a dwarf's head, and was so large that it covered half of Bilbo'a smiling face. "Ye look ridiculous," Bofur teased, taking the hat back for his own. 

"At least I was warm," the hobbit pointed out with a fake pout. This comment transformed Bofur from a laughing friend to a dwarf full of concern and affection. He shrugged out of his heavy jacket with record speed. he rose up onto his knees and moved in front of his Bilbo to drape the garment over his One. The hobbit felt the icy feeling in his skin begin to thaw immediately. 

"Better?" Bofur asked him, his hands still on Bilbo's small shoulders. 

"I couldn't think of being better than I am now," Bilbo said, sincerely meaning what he said. It was the first time since leaving home that he found himself feeling happy. For just a brief moment, he forgot about missing his armchair. The only place he wanted to be was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like last chapter, this chapter pretty much wrote itself for me. Editing was kept at a minimum, I hope that wasnt a mistake:)
> 
> This is pretty much what happens between when Gandalf leaves and when Fili and Kili loose the ponies. 
> 
> I hope you like it. If you do, please let me know, my ego does enjoy comments- even if the comment is 'constructive criticism' :)


	5. Protecting Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has soup. 
> 
> Dwarves teach him to be a burglar- the hard way.

"Mister Bilbo?" a shy, polite voice called from the direction of the camp. 

It must be Ori, Bilbo thought to himself, a little annoyed that the scribe was interrupting his moment with the kind Bofur.  
He wasn't sure what it was he felt when he around the toymaker, but he knew his heart beat faster and his skin blushed red whenever he saw Bofur smiling at him. He'd never felt these sensations when he was in the shire; mostly because he tried to maintain his respectable status. Respectable hobbits didn't go cavorting and courting whenever they pleased. Respectable hobbits didn't think of their bodies as anything other than a vessel for food. Respectable hobbits definitely did not run out their doors to go on adventures with dwarves. 

And even the most shameless of hobbits wouldn't dare be seen blushing and smiling under the gaze of a very, very friendly dwarf who had given the hobbit his jacket. 

Bilbo decided to not think about the nonsensical things his body was doing, since these feelings were all so new to him. Respectable hobbits didn't jump into new things without having some knowledge about the consequences they would bring. 

"Yes, Ori?" Bilbo responded, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the smile tucked away between the curled ends of Bofur's mustache. 

"Dinner is being served," Ori informed him, stepping into view of where the Bilbo and Bofur sat together in the derelict cabin's frame. "Oh, sorry, have I interrupted something?" The scribe asked, stepping back with a nervous look at the two of them together. Bilbo jumped to his feet, crossing his arms. The too-long sleeves of Bofur's jacket folded down far past Bilbo's small hands, but the hobbit pretended not to notice. He had a point to prove. He didn't want anyone suspecting anything between him and the toymaker, though he supposed it was likely that someone had seen that wonderfully strange moment when Bofur had kissed his neck while on the horse.

"Interrupting? Interrupting what?" He asked sharply, a determined look on his face. 

Ori's face blanched in embarrassment. He wasn't used to dealing with couples who wished to remained secret. That was what he assumed Bilbo and Bofur were turning into, though he kept his suspicions to himself. He didn't think the other dwarves had noticed how Bofur's face had lit up in enlightened joy when he'd first seen Bilbo, or how excited Bofur had been to play a song for the hobbit. But Ori had definitely noticed. He wanted to congratulate Bofur on finding his One True Love, but it seemed that Bilbo didn't want anyone to talk about it.

Or perhaps, Ori thought in a moment of epiphany, Bilbo had no idea that Bofur's heart was now bound to the hobbit forever. 

"Nothing, sorry," Ori apologized, beginning to believe that Bilbo truly had no idea as to what was happening between him and Bofur, and Ori didnt want to say anything that Bilbo wasn't ready to hear. "Please, come eat," Ori finished, backing away as quickly as he could.

 

Bilbo turned to Bofur with a theatrically large smile, and bowed deeply, the huge jacket swallowing up his bent body. 

"Mister Bofur, let us go and dine," the hobbit proposed with mock formality, laughing as he met Bofur's cheerful eyes. 

"Yes, master Baggins," Bofur accepted with the same incredibly proper tone, standing up and bowing as low as he could, holding his hat on with one hand. "I believe mah brother Bombur has prepared a lovely meal of travel stew tonight," he joked, stepping towards Bilbo. "I hope it's good enough for ye, you must be used to far richer food than what we can give ya," he guessed with -the joking tone receding a bit. 

"Anything you give me will be good enough," Bilbo said in sincere appreciation. "I haven't eaten since breakfast this morning, I am absolutely starving," Bilbo paired this declaration with a dramatic swoon and a smile, giving Bofur warm tingles in his chest. 

"Let's go feed ye, then," the dwarf suggested with a smile, gesturing for the hobbit to lead them back towards camp.

 

They returned to the company, who were around a vigorous campfire, mostly in good spirits, except Thorin. The king sat silently with Dwalin near him. Thorin's sharp, iced eyes were staring into the long forest before him, a brooding expression on his face. His expression was so intense and so similar to a face of deep sorrow that Bilbo decided he would go ask him what was wrong- As soon as Dwalin left. 

Dwalin scared Bilbo more than anyone else in the company, except maybe Thorin. Thorin, at least seemed to have been bred into a general apreciation social etiquette. It seemed to Bilbo that someone as tough and uncouth as Dwalin would see no problem in beating on a displeasing hobbit until he was bleeding and bruised and then leaving the victim where they lie to go have a good meal. Just the thought of an angry Dwalin made Bilbo shudder. 

He pushed that bad thought out of his head and replaced it with the hot stew that Bofur was ladling into two bowls. 

"What's in that, exactly?" Bilbo asked Bombur, who stood next to the cooking pot. 

"Not sure, exactly, Kili provided the meat," admitted the fat dwarf with a shrug."oh, Thorin told me to  
Tell ya solethin," here Bilbo blinked in shock. Why wouldn't Thorin tell him whatever he wanted to say in person? But then again, thorin had been acting so strange. A messenger was hardly the oddest thing Thorin had done in regards to his treatment of the hobbit. 

"Well what was it?" Bofur asked with interest. 

Bofur had noticed Thorin's uncharacteristic behavior since Bag End, and the toy maker was forming several theories in his mind. One very possible idea in Bofur's head was that Thorin hated the hobbit so much that he couldn't bear to look at him and his short curls and beardless face that Bofur so adored. 

The second theory was one that Bofur, ever the optimist, preferred not to believe. This idea was that Thorin had, against his will, fallen hopelessly for Bilbo Baggins, but refused to make a claim on the hobbit. Bofur couldn't understand why Thorin could possibly not want Bilbo. But he supposed Thorin had lost so much he cared about in his life that any sort of love held nothing but risk and unpleasantness for the king. 

"He told me to tell ya to 'ave a double servin'. I guess he's lookin after yer 'ealth," Bombur shrugged again. 

Bofur felt a vague pain in his heart. Thorin did care for the hobbit, at least for his survival. Maybe it was just a king looking after his company. 

Yes, tha' must be it, Bofur decided. Thorin cares only 'bout Bilbo's health, not his heart. Tha's all...

 

The darkening sky and the chilly air  
setting in made for an almost romantic setting. The toy maker and his hobbit took their soup- a double helping for Bilbo- and sat off a bit to the side, enjoying each other's company along with the warmth of the stew. Bilbo was absorbed in the delicious experience of food, but Bofur was more alert. The dwarf noticed several members of the company shooting suspicious glances at the hobbit in the dwarf-made jacket. There was only one condition under which dwarves shared clothes: courtship. And dwarves never courted anyone they didn't believe was their One.  
Thorin was among the dwarves to notice the jacket that was warming the hobbit better than the fire that Dwalin had built. The king knew now that the hobbit would be taken care of; by Bofur if not by Thorin himself. That thought comforted the king. At least e tried to make it comfort him, but he couldn't entirely push away the intense feelings of jealousy welling up in his chest. 

Bilbo, finishing first as always, was tasked with the job of bringing dinner to the youngest of the dwarves, Fili and Kili. He was slightly hesitant to leave Bofur's side, but one happy smile from the jacketless dwarf and Bilbo realized he would do anything Bofur asked him to. Tromping through the thick grass and stepping over a fallen tree, he reached the spot where the brothers stood, worried expressions on both of their faces. This confused Bilbo, so he approached with caution.

"Here you are then. Dinner." Neither one even turned to look at him. His confusion became greater as he turned his head to see what they were looking at. It was a large tree, and it appeared to have been completely uprooted for the ground. Bilbo uttered out a small cry of shock, frightened at the thought of what could have done that.

"Fili?... Kili? What's going on?" Fili turned to face him, the first to acknowledge his presence.

"Kili and I were in charge of the ponies. There were sixteen."

"And now there are fourteen,." Kili blurted this out, looking afraid he would receive a scolding for this. Bilbo apprehensively walked towards the tree, examining it at a closer angle. 

"Do you think whoever did this took them? Do you know what it is?" Both brothers muttered one word in unison.

"Trolls."

"Trolls?" Bilbo exclaimed, his sheltered life causing him to hardly beliee his ears. He'd never seen a troll of course, but he'd read about them. Nasty, violent, huge, semi intelligent creatures. Their whole lives revolved around hoarding treasure and finding meals. They are just about everything, and Bilbo was sure the trolls would have no qualms about devouring thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, sixteen ponies and one wizard- if Gandalf did indeed show up again. 

The brothers decided Bilbo should go get the ponies back. 

Against his will, Bilbo was shoved by princely hands into learning to be a burglar. The massive trolls were definitely hungry, and Bilbo knew they'd eat him if they saw him. He would have to be very, very careful.

He pulled Bofur's jacket up so it fit his small frame as well as he could make it fit, and steeled himself to get back the ponies. 

Fili and Kili, though they had promised to be "right behind" Bilbo, had immediately ran back toqards camp after pushing the hobbit towards the trolls. 

"What are we supposed to do?" Kili asked his brother as they hurried back to the company. 

"I don't know!" Fili returned in a panicked tone. "Tell Thorin?" 

"Tell Thorin we lost the ponies!?" Kili exclaimed in disbelief. Normally, whenever the brothers did something unwise, they avoided telling their uncle at all costs. So it had been for all the years of the princes' lives. Kili couldn't imagine why they would start telling the truth now, and started formulating complex lies in his head as excuses to how the ponies went missing. Unfortunately, his shocked exclamation had been louder than he'd thought, and the camp was closer than he'd thought. 

Thorin had heard his nephew, and did not like what had reached his ears. 

"WHAT?" Raged the king, bursting into the small clearing of bushes where his nephews cowered before him. "What did you do?" He demanded, appearing in his anger to be far taller than he actually was. Fili was the first brother to break down into telling the truth. 

"We got distracted and trolls stole the ponies and then we sent Bilbo to go get them back and-" Fili's rushed explanation was cut by the most angry yell he'd ever heard out of Thorin's mouth, accompanied by his uncle drawing his sword. 

"You sent Bilbo to the trolls?" Thorin bellowed, his temper far beyond it's boiling point. Losing the ponies could be dealt with, but he knew at the molten core of his stone heart that losing Bilbo would devastate him. Devastate him to the point where reclaiming Erebor would not console him.

The other dwarves had entered the clearing as well, now. They all stood at respective attention, even Bofur, who was just as enraged and terrified for the possible date of Bilbo as Thorin was. The company waited, silently with weapons drawn, waiting for orders from their king. Thorin raised his sword high and cast his eyes up to the stars in the sky, unleashing a passionate cry of battle, shaking the pines around the clearing with the sheer volume of his voice. 

Thorin became a volcanoe, spewing firey phrases of Kuzduhl, preparing his dwarves for battle. With one mighty yell, the company took off, sprinting and yelling battle cries towards the trolls. Fili and Kili led them, because they knew where the creatures were. But the true leaders of the attack were Thorin and Bofur. 

Unlike the rest of the company, these two dwarves were not only fighting for the lives of ponies and a hobbit. They were fighting for their hearts, fighting for their purpose to live, fighting for their One True Love. 

They all at once broke into the trolls' clearing in the forest, yelling and screaming and smashing and fighting like some horrible monster made up of thirteen small, vicious parts. 

Both a king and a toymaker searched desperately for a hobbit while they fought the trolls; but they searched to no avail. Bilbo was, at that moment, using the diversion of the dwarves to try to cut the ponies loose. 

"Bilbo?" Bofur called out frantically in a brief moment of rest after smashing a troll's foot with his heavy mattock. He received no answer, but Bilbo heard him. The burglar hobbit smiled to himself to know that Bofur was still ok. 

 

"Where is he?" Thorin bellowed while he slashed deep lines into the same troll's leg. 

"Where's who?" Asked the troll with an apron on, picking up Thorin by his heavy fur collar.

"Where is my hobbit?" Roared the king as he struggled to free himself from the tightening grasp around him. 

"Your what?" Snorted the troll, squeezing Thorin's strong body. Thorin could feel the breath being taken from him, and was gasping for air when he was saved by Dwalin's powerful hammer coming out of nowhere, shocking the troll into letting Thorin go. 

Thorin had only just found his sword when he realized the combat had stopped. 

The trolls had found Bilbo. They were holding him by his four limbs, five feet at least above the ground, threatening to tear him apart at any moment if the dwarves didnt comply. The angriest looking troll of them all cried out to then.  
"Lay down your arms! Or we'll rip his off." Immediately both Thorin and Bofur felt fear for their love. The mere thought of a life without Bilbo Baggins sent the two into a painful sadness that neither had felt before. They knew immediately that they would do whatever it took to keep him safe. Without any reluctance, Bofur quickly dropped his pick axe. Thorin hesitated, not wanting to look too worried, but then gave in, sticking his sword into the ground. Everyone else followed suit, afraid that it was very possible they could lose their burglar tonight.  
Two of the trolls proceeded to bag up all of the dwarves, some making more of a fuss than others. Bilbo was bagged as well, the whole lot of them just lying on the ground, helpless. As dire as this situation was for his company, Thorin smiled at the thought of how he had saved his One. Bofur on the other hand was worried. All he could think about was how they would get out of this situation. But even in this distressed state, Bofur couldn't help but worry for the small hobbit who was wearing his clothes.  
All of Thorin's company, tied and bagged, spent the next few agonizing minutes listening to the hobbit delay the dim witted trolls long enough for Gandalf to come save them. 

The wizard showed up with impeccable timing, unleashing the power of the sun and turning the hideous troll into harmless stone.

After all of the dwarves had been freed, Bilbo pulled Thorin aside to thank him for what he had done.

"Thorin, I.. Just, thank you. You saved my life." He reached out tentatively and held his shoulder. Thorin felt a swell of joy at his touch, but did his best not to let it show.

"Well, I was just doing what I needed to." Immediately after he said this he felt terrible. The coldness in his voice had obviously been apparent to Bilbo, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his One. 

"And thank you, for saving me as well," He muttered this quietly and then left, leaving his hobbit with a confused feeling of pride.

Bofur saw the prideful smile on his Love's lips, and the poor toymaker was sad that he was not the cause of Bilbo's happiness. But Thorin was his king. If Thorin wanted Bilbo, the king was far more worthy of the hobbit than a toymaker. 

Bofur just forced himself to smile, and forced himself to remember that Bilbo was not a dwarf. Bilbo could choose who he wanted. 

Bilbo would choose Thorin. That's what Bofur decided. 

But no one can predict a hobbit's actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to write, I hope it's ok:) 
> 
> I can't decide what to do with these characters and situations, I've got way too many conflicting ideas! 
> 
> Any thoughts?:)


	6. Accommodations for Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo gets to see Rivendell.
> 
> Dwarves get to find a place for him to sleep.

The company had decided they needed to move on as quickly as possible. They'd heard orcs and seen wargs approaching. One particularly bold warg had even dared to attack them but was quickly defeated by Thorin and his new sword, taken from the troll's cave. 

The dwarves, hobbit and wizard ran across the plains, chased by orcs, for what seemed like hours. 

Gandalf eventually found a cave for them go escape through. After walking through narrow caverns, they saw it. 

Rivendell. 

Bilbo had never seen so much beauty. The graceful, elegantly simple buildings that intertwined themselves with nature mezmerized him. 

Bofur was just as mezmerized, but by a different sight: the look of wonder on the hobbit's face. The toymaker made it his goal to put that look on Bilbo's face himself, if he could. Bofur knew Bilbo had a lot to think about between Rivendell and adventures and dwarves, and Bofur wanted nothing more than to be the one that made everything make sense to the hobbit. Bofur wanted to approach Bilbo on the hike down to the elf city, but he never got the chance due to his morbidly overweight brother's need of assistance in walking down such a steep and narrow path. 

When the company finally crossed the bridge into the city proper, they were met by an elf with flowing, brushed brown hair who didnt seem to enjoy the dwarves any more than they enjoyed him. Gandalf talked to this elf for only a few moments before a loud trumpeting noise came from across the bridge. A host of horse-mounted elves was crossing towards the dwarves, making no sign of slowing down. It seemed as though the elves meant to trample the company! 

"Close ranks!" Thorin called, keeping a watchful eye on Bilbo, who seemed to be in such a daze that he didnt know how to look after his own safety. Thorin didn't know whether to be relieved or angered when he saw Bofur pull Bilbo to the safety of the group, stepping in front of the hobbit to protect him. 

It turned out that the elves meant no harm to the dwarves. Lord Elrond even went so far as to offer food to the company of Thorin Oakenshield. They all had a marvelous dinner together, even though it only consisted of green food.

After dinner, all of the company were offered individual rooms. Thorin, in order to be gracious as a king should, accepted a guest room, but the rest of the dwarves stubbornly refused elven hospitality. The elves did not have much trouble finding other places for the dwarves to stay, they were relieved to not have dwarves dirtying up their guest rooms. The company was all to sleep outside together on a large terrace overlooking the city. 

Bilbo was a little sad to hear this decision. He would have really liked to sleep in a bed again. But he wanted to be part of the company, and so he agreed to stay on the terrace with them. He tried to hide his disappointment, but Bofur noticed it immediately. Bilbo was his One, and that meant that Bofur was sensitive to every emotion in the hobbit's body. Bofur finally got to approach Bilbo when everyone was choosing places to sleep. 

"Y'all right, Bilbo? Ye look a li'l sad," Bofur commented, placing a concerned hand on the hobbit's shoulder, still covered in thick leather. 

"Yes, I suppose," Bilbo sighed, unpacking his thin bedroll and starting to lay it out on the stone floor. "I mean, I'm in rivendell," he continued, a sense of wonder trailing in his voice. He looked up to Bofur, who had a look of understanding on his face. 

"But yer not where ye want to be, are ya?" The toymaker asked, kneeling down beside him. "The shire?"

Bilbo sighed again, and nodded. 

"It seems like I have never wanted anything more than I want Bag End," Bilbo admitted, chuckling in irony. Just recently he'd wanted nothing better than to leave the shire. 

"I understand," Bofur said, reaching out again to Bilbo, this time his hand finding its way into the fawn curls Bofur found so adorable. Bilbo blushed a little at the touch and the closeness of the dwarf to him. All Bilbo could think about was that first horseback ride with Bofur. The respectable hobbit side of him told him to forget about it. But there was another side, a new side Bilbo had never noticed before, that told him that he wanted to experience that again. To experience the gentle intimacy of Bofur at least one more time. 

It seemed that Bofur wanted something from Bilbo, but the hobbit wasnt sure what. If he didnt know better, he would think the dwarf wanted to court him. But that couldn't be. Males didn't do that together, at least not in the shire. Maybe dwarves are different, Bilbo thought in curiosity. Maybe they don't have rules about that kind of thing.

He noticed that he hoped he was right. 

"Bofur- would you," Bilbo knew he wanted to ask sonething of the dwarf, to quench his own curiosity about the situation. But he wasnt sure what to ask. He decided to play it safe. "Would you sleep near me tonight?"

Bilbo had never seen Bofur smile so brightly. The dwarf nodded vigorously, his hat nearly flying off his head, and ran to get his own bedroll. Bilbo made a small sound of amusement at the hurried pace of the dwarf as he rushed back to the hobbit. 

"Here's good?" Bofur asked, eager to set down the worn fabric he used as a bed. Bilbo nodded with a bit of a smirk dancing on his lips. Bofur layed out his bedroll beside Bilbo's and sprawled himself across it, laughing gleefully. Bilbo smiled to see him so happy, even if he didnt fully understand why. 

"I'm glad I'll have some company tonight," Bilbo said sincerely. He truly had felt very alone the past nights. Te dwarves all seemed so close, always joking and playing with each other. But, aside from Bofur, everyone seemed to leave Bilbo alone for the most part. The hobbit felt left out, isolated, and longed for some true companionship on this journey. 

Bofur was more than happy to oblige. 

"Well, come sit down, will ye?" Bofur asked through laughter, patting Bilbo's bedroll as an invitation. The hobbit layed down and rolled onto his side, bringing his hands up to tuck them under his chin. Bofur thought he looked perfect like that: a smile of contentment on those rosebud lips, a blush of happiness in his cheeks and friendship- at least- in his eyes. 

"Thank you for your jacket, Bofur," Bilbo said, almost shyly. Bofur just smiled at him and let his strong fingers caress the leather garment that now belonged to his Love. 

"I'd give ye anything, Bilbo," he said softly, moving his hand up to the hobbit's ear, tucking some of the curls back into place. 

Bilbo chuckled- no, he giggled- nervously and wasn't sure what to say to such a raw statement of affection. He was becoming fairly certain that the dwarf was harboring feelings for him, and he wasnt sure how to feel about that. That respectable side of him kept telling Bilbo to leave it alone, to stop enjoying Bofur's company so much. But the other side of him, the adventurous, Tookish side of him, was growing stronger. So strong that it was starting to take over Bilbo Baggins. And this strengthening side was telling Bilbo that he was starting to feel something for the simple toymaker. There was a vague feeling of acceptance and joy forming in the hobbit's heart. He was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, he had found the companionship he so longed for. 

"That's very sweet of you, Bofur," Bilbo said politely, after a long pause to collect his thoughts. 

"It's not sweet," Bofur noted, "it's my duty to make ye happy, ya know," he said, now softly stroking Bilbo's cheek. Bilbo realized once again how close they were. Their knees were touching, and their chests were remarkably close. Bilbo imagined that he could even feel Bofur's heart beating. 

Bilbo was about to ask what Bofur meant by 'duty' when he noticed a distracted and disappointed expression appear suddenly on Bofur's face as the dwarf drew his hands away from his hobbit's lovely face. 

"Burglar," said a stern voice from behind Bilbo. "Get out of bed. We have business, you, Balin, Gandalf and I."

"Yes, Thorin," Bilbo muttered, reluctantly standing up. He avoided looking at either dwarf. Bofur was sad, which made Bilbo sad, and Thorin was probably acting in that important, kingly way he had of acting and that intimidated Bilbo. So the hobbit looked at the bright moon above him. "What business?"

In truth, Bilbo was not required at all. Gandalf had told Balin and Thorin to come for a meeting with Lord Elrond. Bilbo's name had not been mentioned at all, it didnt really make sense for him to attend this important meeting. But Thorin had seen him and Bofur together, lying beside each other, touching and blushing and smiling, and Thorin could not help but to try to get them away from each other. 

"Leave your coat here, we will be indoors," Thorin said, trying to hide a scowl of contempt as he glared at the leather jacket that meant more than Bilbo could realize. A look of acheivement reached Thorin's eyes as Bilbo reluctantly removed the jacket, returning it to Bofur sadly. 

Bilbo stood up, straightened his waistcoat, and started to walk away with Thorin, trying not to notice the sad look on Bofur's face. The king had been pleasantly suprised at how easily Bofur had let Bilbo go. 

At the meeting with Elrond, they discussed the moon runes found on the map and when exactly the door would be open. As Bilbo was leaving the meeting, Thorin caught up to him, wanting to say something but not quite sure what. 

"Mr. Baggins! A word please?" Bilbo was shocked at the urgency of Thorins tone, so he immediately turned to face him.

"I just want it made clear that you discuss this meeting with no one. I will approach the group with this news in the morning. Do you understand?"

"Yes..yes Thorin I understand."

"Thank you. Come, I'll walk you to your room." Thorin started to walk away down the long, spacious hallway towards the guest rooms, but Bilbo did not follow him. The hobbit stood where he was, a little confused. 

"Thorin, I don't have a room," Bilbo explained, more than a little exasperated disappointment in his voice. Thorin turned to him and- this shocked Bilbo a little- he smiled. 

Thorin really did have a magnificent smile, Bilbo decided. It wasn't too grand or insincere as so many royal smiles are. Rather, Thorin's smile was subtle, and legitimately displayed the king's pleasure in what Bilbo had said. 

Bilbo just didn't understand how he'd brought this smile on. 

"I'm sorry, are you smiling at my discomfort?" Bilbo asked indignantly, solidly crossing his arms. The hobbit was offended and baffled so thoroughly that he called to Thorin's mind the image of Bilbo Baggins standing, arms crossed and face angry, in his own living room in bag end. This was the image of the first time Thorin had seen Bilbo. The image that changed his life. Thorin normally would have tried to suppress all these feelings, tried to forget that Bilbo was the only person he would ever love. 

But Thorin had had a rough night, full of elves and maps and wine. It was a night that begged for some relief, some happiness, some love. 

"You will have a room Bilbo. You deserve a bed again," Thorin decided, the smile drifting away but not disappearing completely. The king held out his arm, and Bilbo, still very confused, accepted it. 

Linked to his hobbit, Thorin began once more down the hallway. The pair was silent for the short distance to the room next to Thorin's, one of them lost in happiness and the other lost in befuddlement. Bilbo decided that he'd been touched by far too many dwarves in one evening. 

But the evening wasn't over yet. 

"This is yours," Thorin declared, gesturing to the smooth, elegant white door before them. The gold handle gleamed in the moonlight that shined through the latticed roof of the hall, calling Bilbo to it. 

"All my things are out there, with Bofur," Bilbo debated, slipping away from Thorin. The king's smile was gone now. 

"Bilbo, you'll do what I say," he said in a deceptively commanding whisper, trying desperately not to sound too harsh. "And I say this room is for you."

Bilbo said nothing, not wishing to argue with someone so much stronger than himself. Thorin's muscles, even under layers of armor, horrified poor little Bilbo. It was a true dwarven body, strengthened by the forge and the sword. The only blades Bilbo's small, hobbit body had handled were a dinner knives and letter openers. 

Very much aware of himself, Bilbo reached out sharply for the golden door handle, maintaining defiant eye contact with Thorin. The king, in his slightly drunken state, found it hard to not laugh at Bilbo's small act of rebellion. 

"Good night, Thorin," Bilbo snapped, trying to shut the door. But Thorin found himself blocking the door, stopping it with his boot. He wasnt sure why exactly, but he knew he couldn't let Bilbo out of his sight yet. If he let him go now, the hobbit might go back to Bofur. Just the thought of them near each other made Thorin's blood boil. 

Then Thorin noticed his temperature rising for a different reason entirely. He realized that his body was reacting to being so near to Bilbo. Thorin's strong stomach muscles were tightening, there was definitely a heat coming from between his solid thighs, and he felt a feeling of desire of such magnitude that he could only compare it to the intense battle rage he had felt at Moria. He wanted Bilbo. Wanted him, at that moment, more than he wanted Erebor. 

"No, Bilbo," Thorin corrected, pushing the door open with ease. Bilbo shrunk back from him, but still tried to appear brave. The look of determination on his beardless face only served to stoke the fire that was beginning to rage out of control inside Thorin. 

"Thorin," Bilbo said in what was probably meant to be a threatening tone as Thorin continued to advance on him. "It's time for you to leave." Bilbo swallowed, stepping back mechanically. 

"You can't run from this, burglar," Thorin said in that dreadfully husky whisper. Bilbo recognized this behavior as animalistic, raw, instinctive. And the hobbit couldn't deny that his body reacted to this strong dwarf in ways that Bilbo hadn't given it permission to.

"This isn't a good idea-" Bilbo stopped speaking suddenly when he felt his back hit the wall. Thorin was right, he had no where to run. The smile returned to the king's lips, but it was darker this time, full of something much different than mild happiness. 

"I do not care," Thorin growled through his smile, taking this opportunity to pin Bilbo's shoulders to the wall. "If you think this is a good idea. I do not have a choice, so neither do you," Thorin's lips were hardly inches away from Bilbo's pointed ears, his breath hot against the Hobbits skin. Bilbo exhaled sharply, unable to deny that his heart was racing at this extreme contact.

"You are mine," Thorin growled in a voice so rough and quiet it was almost unable to be heard. But Bilbo heard it. And Bilbo's body reacted in extraordinary ways to these decisive words. Thoughts of Bofur's sweet smile and quirky hat disappeared. All there was was King Thorin. The King of Bilbo. 

The only thing Bilbo knew was that Thorin's mouth was very close to his own. And the distance closed at a painfully slow rate, ragged breaths passing between the two of them. 

Then it happened. Thorin closed the small space between them, his mouth fitting perfectly over Bilbo's. The hobbit, through no will of his own, moaned into the kiss, and felt his arms wrap around Thorin's neck. 

The hard length of Thorin's sex pressed against Bilbo's stomach, and the king was lost to the world. Thorin broke the kiss and bent his head down, pressing his lips to Bilbo's soft neck, his bearded chin scratching the hobbit, giving a delightful sensation. As much as he enjoyed it, this contact was what it took to snap Bilbo out of this raw passionate moment. It was too familiar. It called back the thoughts of Bofur. Thoughts of the conversations in the nights, of moments on horseback, of foreign and exciting feelings. 

Weak as the hobbit was, Bilbo was able to push away the distracted Thorin, who just stared at him. Now it was the kings turn to be confused. 

"I-" Bilbo cleared his throat, struggling to speak correctly. "I really don't think this is a good idea."

"Yes... You're... I understand," Thorin managed through heavy breaths. He left the room with no more words than that. The wine in his head was beginning to wear off, and he started to remember that he didn't want to mix his life with Bilbo's. 

But he wasn't sure how long he could continue to tell himself that. 

 

Bilbo, Bofur, and Thorin all slept alone that night, and all of them wished that wasn't the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advance warning: the rating will very likely be going up... Soon. 
> 
> I'm sorry so much movie stuff is skimmed over so quickly, like the Radagast scene and the reading of the moon runes. But I figure that people reading this already know those scenes prett well and don't want to read them again:) 
> 
> I'm sorry Thorin is so scary here, I really love this side of his because it contrasts Bofur so much. And it's fun imagining Bilbo's reactions:)
> 
> Thank you for leaving kudos and commentig:) I hope you enjoy this story, I'd love to hear opinions:)


	7. Mornings with Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo needs a bath. 
> 
> Dwarves need Bilbo.

Bilbo woke up to the bright, pleasant sound of chirping birds on his windowsill. His eyes fluttered open to see the two little blue birds to the left of his big, fluffy bed. He smiled and stretched his arms above his head, glad to have finally gotten a good night's rest again. 

But as he lifted his arms up, his nose scrunched up in disgust. He was beginning to smell like a dwarf. Days of traveling with no thought of a bath had definitely begun to take their toll. He ran his fingers through his hair and was terrified to feel how greasy his curls had become. 

He thought back to the times Bofur had touched his hair and had smiled at him. Though Bilbo just couldn't fathom how Bofur hadn't been completely repulsed by the slick, grimy strands on his head, he was happy that Bofur hadn't been bothered. If Bilbo was honest with himself, Bofur was definitely one of the few reasons that nature hadn't defeated the hobbit yet. Bofur's warm touches and tender hearted words were making Bilbo stronger, more resilient, happier. 

Pleasant thoughts of Bofur began to rock Bilbo back to sleep. He felt his eyes slip closed again, he rolled back over onto his stomach, and he snuggled into the fluffy covers once more. He almost felt like he was back in the shire again. 

But his moment of contentment was not to last. 

"Get up!" Accompanied three hard knocks on his door. Dwalin, Bilbo realized with a shudder. "We're serving breakfast," Dwalin grunted through the door. The next sound was a steady pattern heavy footsteps departing from Bilbo's room. 

Bilbo did not want to get up. Dwalin reminded him of Thorin. And Thorin was the last person Bilbo wanted to see. Bruises on his small shoulders served as souvenirs of last night's intense and scary but undeniably arousing encounter with the dwarf king. Bilbo cringed to remember that he had gotten some kind of rush of enjoyment at Thorin's rough kiss. Bilbo knew it was wrong. Being handled like that shouldn't give pleasure. 

Bilbo shook his head to clear those dark thoughts away. He didnt want to think about that, not in somewhere like Rivendell where he had always wanted to be. He looked again to the birds and smiled. The song they chirped sounded remarkably like the song Bofur had started at Bag End. 

Strange, Bilbo thought, that a tune that had once so infuriated him now comforted him. 

He got dressed in some loose, white elven clothes that had been laid out for him and walked down the hallway towards the terrace he knew all the dwarves were congregated on. 

The smell of cooking bacon and eggs helped lead him straight to the group. His hobbit appetite took over his mind, all thoughts of dwarves fading away in the presence of breakfast.

When he finally reached the dwarves, he was pleased to see that Thorin was not present. It was easier to enjoy breakfast without fear of a king throwing himself onto you. 

 

"Bilbo!" Bofur called excitedly when he saw the hobbit step onto the terrace. "Come 'ere, you! I saved ye a plate," he continued, waving Bilbo over. Bofur had been worried sick about Bilbo last night. He'd gone away to that important meeting with Thorin and he'd never returned. Bofur had spent most of the night lying awake, clinging to the leather jacket that now possessed the slightly fruity scent of Bilbo. For as long as he could stay awake, he stared in the direction that Bilbo had departed. 

Bombur had told him to relax, to just get some rest. But he could not rest. Not without knowing where Bilbo was. He refused to even lay fully down, remaining in a half-seated position with his back against a marble column. Bombur, a clever chef, had made his brother some tea, and slipped something special in that forced Bofur to finally fall asleep. 

He'd woken up in as much of a state of panic as he'd been in when he'd drifted off. Bilbo was still missing. But, just like any dwarf, meat took a priority over most things. So he'd tried to enjoy his breakfast as much as possible. He tried to make himself believe that Bilbo was fine. What could possibly happen in Rivendell? The elves were friendly to hobbits. 

Besides, Thorin wouldn't have let Bilbo wander off, would he? After all, Thorin cared for the hobbit's safety, Bofur reminded himself. 

After hours and hours of worrying and fearful imagining, seeing Bilbo step onto the terrace was, for Bofur, a sight sweeter than gold. 

Since the dwarves hadn't picked anything up from last night, the bedrolls were all still in the places assigned to them, including Bilbo's. His small roll and travel bag were still untouched next to Bofur's. 

The hobbit took his place beside the toymaker and couldn't hide his excitement as he ravenously ate the delicious food Bofur had given him. He realized Bofur wasn't eating so he looked up at him curiously. The dwarf was smirking at him, trying very hard to not laugh. 

"Good mornin' to ye too," Bofur chuckled, taking a bite of a sausage. 

"Oh!" Bilbo realized how rude he had been and put his fork down in a bit of a panic. "Good morning, Bofur," he said with a very polite smile and bow of his head, remembering his manners. 

"Where were ye last night?" Bofur asked abruptly, then quickly realized his tone was one full of concern. He didnt want to worry Bilbo, so he tried to ammend his tone. "Not off fighting orcs, I hope?" He teased, playfully cuffing Bilbo on the shoulder. 

It was easy to see the pain on Bilbo's face. Bofur had hit him right where Thorin had left a bruise. The hobbit cringed and brought a hand up to his shoulder. The playfulness in Bofur was replaced by concern once more. 

"Bilbo, what's wrong?" He asked with urgency, taking Bilbo's plate away from him. "Are ye hurt?" 

"No," Bilbo lied, forcing a smile. "Just a little sore from this journey I suppose."

"If ye say yer ok, I'll believe ye, Bilbo. Just know that I'm here to help ye," it didn't take long for a smile to reappear on Bofur's lips. He didn't want to pry because clearly Bilbo didn't want to give up the whole story. But there was something slightly off about how Bilbo had explained the bruises that Bofur could now see clearly through the thin white elven shirt. 

"Thank you Bofur, I mean that," Bilbo strained his shoulder by reaching up to place a hand on Bofur's cheek, just beside his curling mustache. The dwarf's smile widened, the skin around his eyes wrinkling in true happiness. Bofur's rough fingers stunned Bilbo by stroking the hobbit's soft hand, just as they had on Bilbo's dining table in Bag End. For the first time, Bilbo began to truly accept the comforting joy Bofur brought to him. His heart did cartwheels in his chest, and for the first time since leaving the Shire, Bilbo Baggins was perfectly happy, exactly where he was. 

Then Bilbo heard Dwalin let out something that sounded like a growl from behind him, and he returned his hands to his breakfast, scared that he had done something to anger the visciois looking dwarf. Being so near to Dwalin stole Bilbo's appetite from him, and he found he no longer wanted the food. 

"If you'll excuse me," Bilbo began, standing up, careful not to hurt his shoulders. "I'm going to try to find a place to wash up."

"G'bye Bilbo, go get washed up," Bofur agreed, acknowledging silently the real reason Bilbo was leaving. Before Bilbo could leave, Bofur grabbed the hobbits' collar and pulled his head down to whisper to him. "Ye look real good in those clothes, Bilbo," he admitted in a heavy voice. It was true, the thin elven garments were ever so slightly transparent, and left far less to the imagination than the practical clothing Bilbo had had on before. Seeing Bilbo's body silhouetted in the morning light did wonders for Bofur's mood, and it got even better when Bilbo hurried away, muttering some sort of goodbye and trying- unsuccessfully- to hide a terrible blush. 

 

Bofur looked after the hobbit, grinning like a love sick lass. He was so absorbed in his Love that he hardly noticed that Thorin had joined the group several moments ago. The king stood by his body guard. Dwalin sat sharpening his axes, reporting everything that had just transpired between Thorin's One and the toymaker. 

"And he left when you suggested he do so?" Thorin asked Dwalin, his arms crossed in seriousness. Dwalin had seen this posture on his king several times before: times when Thorin was planning battle. 

"Yes. He ran away blushing like a girl at something whispered to him."

Thorin said no more to Dwalin. The king had decided last night that Bilbo Baggins would belong to him. The small, soft hobbit was everything that Thorin was not. Bilbo, despite being a very poor burglar indeed, had stolen Thorin's heart, though it remained made of stone. This very poor burglar now was what King Thorin Oakenshield wanted. And if King Thorin wanted something; he got it. No simple miner and toymaker was going to get in the way of that. Thorin just gave a curt nod to his body guard and strode over to Bofur, who still stared after Bilbo. 

"Come with me," Thorin demanded in a voice he usually reserved for elves. 

"Why?" Bofur asked with an ironic smile. He knew exactly what this was about. 

"Not here," was the only reply he got. Bofur had known this was coming, but hadn't prepared himself for it. But he decided it was the smartest choice to get up and follow Thorin off the terrace, well away from the group. 

"Yes?" He asked Thorin as politely as he could manage. 

"You are not permitted around Mr. Baggins any longer, toymaker," Thorin said resolutely, taking an aggressive posture. He kept a hand stationed threateningly on his sword's hilt and looked straight into Bofur's frightened eyes. 

"May I ask why, king?" Bofur requested, dipping his body into a bow. Thorin was still an object or respect in his eyes, even though he was also standing between Bofur and his happiness. 

"He is mine," Thorin said shortly, repeating a phrase he had stated to Bilbo the previous night. He hoped if he said it enough, it would become true. 

"I'm not sure he agrees with that," Bofur pointed out quietly. He never had been able to keep his mouth shut, even when it was wiser to remain silent. 

"You doubt my ability to win him?" Thorin growled, gripping Orcrist tighter. 

"I..." Bofur couldn't settle on words to answer Thorin. "No, I don't doubt you," he said finally, giving up on angering Thorin with the truth. Then something clicked in his mind. Bilbo had been hurt sometime last night, Bofur had been able to figure that much. Bilbo had never returned to the terrace. Neither had Thorin. Small realizations began to fit together in the toymaker's mind like pieces of a puzzle. "Would you happen to know how Bilbo bruised his shoulders last night?" Bofur asked in a slow voice, working out the question as he said it. 

"No!" Thorin denied, daring Bofur to negate his claim. But there were lies all throughout his voice, his tone, his face, his eyes, everything. Both dwarves knew that Bofur had figured something out. Not everything, not yet. But something. "Go, finish your breakfast," Thorin ordered, starting to unsheathe orcrist. 

"Yes, king," Bofur acquiesced, giving another bow. But the bow was not out of respect, it was to hide the expression of sheer anger on his normally cheerful face. 

 

Meanwhile, Bilbo had wandered his way into the elven baths, longing for a peaceful moment to relax and wash off the dust of his journey. He quickly undressed and slipped into the hobbit-chest high water, letting its coolness overcome him. He took up a soft sponge provided by the elves and ran it gently all over his skin, in love with the pure feeling of being clean. He took a deep breath and smiled to himself, letting his mind drift into fantastical daydreams of warmth and sweet, sugary tea with cream beside a fireplace. Underwater, Bilbo was safe from all harm. 

Only when he felt the water moving behind him did he tear himself from the utter peace that had come with the water flowing over him. He darted his head out from the water and turned around to find Bofur grinning sheepishly, looking slightly surprised that a hobbit had suddenly surfaced from the depths of the bathing pool. 

"Oh Mr. Baggins! I'm terribly sorry to 'ave disturbed ya. I jus' wanted a bath meself," he explained. Bilbo looked petrified, and incredibly self-conscious. But he also felt a tiny thrill in the pit of his stomach, taking a brief moment to stare at the shiny, wet chest of his dwarven companion. 

He'd known dwarves were bigger than himself, but he hasn't guessed how much more... magnificent Bofur really was. He had a unique strength all of his own. Muscles had been clearly defined by years of living a rough life of swinging a heavy pick at solid rock. Finer shapes in his arms had been scuplted by scuplting wood into toys, and fighting had strengthed every aspect of his physique. Here, glistening under sparse sunlight in an elegant elven building, Bofur looked like someone out of an old legend. One of those legends Bilbo had so often read about, filled with gallant heroes and stories of true love. After a moment, Bilbo realized he was staring and averted his gaze, entirely aware of how small and weak his own body was compared to the incredible sight of Bofur. 

"Oh no," he sputtered out politely, dismissing Bofur's concern of intruding. "Feel free to clean yourself. I.. I just thought I was alone is all," Turning around shyly, he began to scrub his arms, vigorously trying to focus all of his attention on the dirt washing off of his skin. The bruises on his little shoulders were very prominent now, sharply contrasting his milky white skin which had not spent much time in the sun. Bofur, seeing those bruises once again, felt his mind cloud with fury at Thorin and love for Bilbo, left all caution behind him. He waded over behind Bilbo, tentatively reaching out and lightly touching his shoulders. Bilbo flinched as warm and suprisingly clever fingers began to gently massage him, but then he relaxed.

"You're tense, Bilbo. Relax. Everythin' will be okay." The hobbit closed his eyes, leaning into the strong hands and letting himself be overcome with desire for this dwarf who was so kind to him. He dropped the now forgotten sponge and moaned quietly as dwarven fingers slid easily over his back. Bofur leaned in, whispering intensely into Bilbo's ear. 

"I won't hurt you." He followed his whisper with a soft kiss on his hobbit's pointed ear, causing Bilbo's eyes to open. Bofur's voice was music. His foreign accent and liting melodious quality enchanted Bilbo, moving him to a world of worriless happiness he could not recal experiencing before. He loved this feeling, and wanted it. Wanted to have it all the time, especially at times in his life like his current state: on an adventure with a whole lot of strangers, a good majority of which did not like Bilbo. But Bofur liked Bilbo, that was clear. He wanted to protect the hobbit, to make him happy. And Bilbo wanted to let him. Bilbo wanted to let this dwarf keep him safe, happy, satisfied. At that moment, Bilbo was afraid at his excitement, but he knew what he wanted. So he turned his head to face Bofur, their eyes holding heated contact that expressed feelings Bilbo could not say. Slowly, hesitantly, Bofur leaned forward and brought his lips to meet Bilbo's.

Bilbo couldn't bring his mouth to do anything but smile against Bofur. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, his only experience being the encounter with Thorin, but he found that his body knew exactly what to do. It was natural, simple, uncomplicated and Bilbo, just for this moment, didn't worry about his reputation, or how it would look if someone found them. The Baggins side of Bilbo's being was very effectively silenced, cast away by a dwarf. When Bofur knew that Bilbo wasn't going to pull away, he wrapped his protective arms around the hobbit's waist, pulling his Love close to him as he had wanted to do for so long. 

Their skin was slick with the pure elven water, and they slid against each other so perfectly that it felt like they had been made for each other. Bilbo, being shorter, had to stand up a bit on his toes to reach the dwarf, and Bofur leaned down as much as his hobbit needed him to. 

Then, in one blissful moment of chance, Bofur shifted his body and his hard cock grazed against Bilbo's waist. Bilbo felt a rush very similar to what he had felt the night before, his own manhood reacting in kind to Bofur's arousal. The poor hobbit was so shocked by these pleasantly suprising sensations that his feet lost their strength and he slipped, his toes no longer able to find purchase on the bath's floor. 

Bofur caught him without even having to think about it, gathering te hobbit up into his arms so Bilbo could lock his arms around his dwarf's strong neck for safety. 

All they could do was smile at each other, far past happiness. Bilbo's face was more excited than when he'd seen breakfast that morning, which Bofur hadn't thought possible. 

"I'm glad to see ye smilin', Bilbo," Bofur said in that sweet caressing whisper he had that drove Bilbo wild. 

"I'm glad you're the one making me smile," Bilbo returned, attempting without much success to match the sensual tone of the dwarf. He saw a smirk twitch on Bofur's face and felt himself blushing in shame. "Oh, I'm no good at this," he muttered to himself, burying his face in Bofur's neck. 

Bofur set his hobbit down gently and lifted his small chin so he could look into those beautiful blue green eyes. "You will be," he assured his One Love optimistically, and drew him in for another kiss. "Now, lets get you cleaned up," he added, kissing Bilbo's nose and splashing him. Bilbo splashed back, feigning offense with a mock gasp of disbelief. This quickly became a proper battle, each of them striving to get the other as wet as possible. 

Bofur definitely won. But that didn't matter in the slightest to Bilbo, as the consolation prize was another hearty kiss. 

"What happened to bathing?" Bilbo asked with a chuckle, his lips still barely apart from Bofur. 

"In truth, I'd entirely forgotten 'bout tha'," Bofur admitted without shame, taking this opportunity to really run his fingers through Bilbo'a drenched locks. He pressed his lips to Bilbo's once again, unable to get enough of the flawless softness of the hobbit. This kiss became two kisses, then three, then an innumerable amount of delightful, forbidden, passionate moments.

Bofur's hands explored Bilbo for the first time, memorizing every curve of the hobbit's body. It was a body accustomed to armchairs and books, not strong dwarven lovers. Bofur's fingers had more force behind them than the dwarf knew, and soon Bilbo let out a small involuntary moan of protest. 

"Sorry," Bilbo whispered, his own fingers finding their way to Bofur's braids. The turned up ends fascinated Bilbo, but he realized that he now longed to see how Bofur really looked in an entirely natural state. "Will you take your hair down for me?" He asked in a silky voice, placing a soft kiss on Bofur's neck, finally getting to pay back the favor. 

"My hair?" Bofur was caught off guard, not sure how to respond. Bilbo saved him the trouble. Hobbit fingers deftly separated the strands of Bofur's braids, and the dwarf joined in after a moment. They were entirely drunk on each other, stealing kisses even as they undid braids. Neither was sure how long it took, but eventually Bofur's ringlet curls fell down far past his shoulder, his mane untamed at last. "Bilbo, I'm sorry ye have got to see me like this, there's a reason I keep my hair up," the dwarf stuttered, ashamed that his One was seeing him without the traditional decorum of his race. "I feel naked now," he added, truthfully embarrassed. Hair styles were essential to courting for dwarves. Being seen with one's style undone was a punishment reserved for criminals. But, much to Bofur's suprise, Bilbo was enamored by the loose hair that now fell about his face. He wrapped it around his small fingers and then unwrapped it, playing and working with it like it was the most spectacular thing he'd ever sen in his entire life. It was then that Bofur got to realize his wish of making Bilbo smile as he had when he'd first seen Rivendell. 

"Good," Bilbo sighed, this time pulling Bofur to him, rougher than he'd meant to. His fingers tangled in the thick dwarven curls, and his cock jumped with excitement as the very considerable length of Bofur rubbed against his front. 

Bilbo moaned deeply and Bofur's hand left a trail of heat on Bilbo's sensitive chest as it began to drift down the hobbit's body when they were jolted from each other by a very loud, young, arrogant voice coming from nearby. 

 

"And so I said: 'you don't scare me! I don't care how big of a troll you are!'" 

Damn. Fili and Kili, just down the hall. 

"I was there, you dolt! You said no such thing!" 

Oh, perfect. Oin too. 

"As if you could hear me?"

Bofur and Bilbo, with audible sounds of displeasure, disentangled themselves as quickly as they could. The voices got closer, the couple panicked and moved as far apart from each other as possible. Bofur rushed to stand by some elven contraption that blew air into the water, hoping the bubbles would conceal his arousal. Bilbo cleverly grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his waist, taking a seat on the edge of the bathing pool with his hands in his lap. The pair heard the other dwarves approaching quickly, and hoped desperately that nothing would be suspected.

Bilbo was worried only about his reputation. 

But Bofur, after the discussion with Thorin, feared for his life if he should be caught doing everything- or more- that he'd just done with the hobbit. 

They waited silently as the princes and the old man got closer and closer, and finally entered the bathing room. 

"Oh, hello, you two," Kili said with a grand bow, his hair sweeping against the floor. 

"Ah, yes, good morning! The great troll-slayer, Kili has arrived!" Fili agreed, copying his brother's bow. Oin just stared at them and scoffed before promptly stripping down. He was old and fat, nothing like the legendary sight Bofur had provided. 

It didn't take much more than the viewing of Oin to calm down both Bofur and his Love. As their bodies cooled, both of them suppressed sighs of relief that none of the trio seemed to suspect anything. The pair shared a secret smile of victory, then promptly looked away from each other, neither of them wishing to get excited again in the presence of other people. 

If this was how their relationship was to be, Bofur thought to himself, it would be anything but simple.

It would be especially difficult once the whole company found out about Thorin's threat. They would all find out eventually, Bofur knew that. And once they did find out, Bofur would not be able to even be near his One if others were around. Thorin would not permit it. And what the King says, goes. 

 

But until that time, Bofur knew he had to enjoy and savor every second he got with his hobbit. And he intended to do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, bathing scenes may be overdone, but I couldn't resist the temptation:) 
> 
> You may have noticed the rating went up, not so much because of this chapter, but more in anticipation of what is to come:)
> 
> Any comments, whether it be a compliment or a suggestion to improve something or whatever else, are most welcome:)   
> Thank you for reading!:)


	8. Engaging Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin confronts Bilbo about his feelings.
> 
> One dwarf is left out in the cold

Fili knew. He'd known at Bag End. He often discussed it with Ori- with whom Fili had created quite a few secrets of his own. 

The second that Fili had walked into the bath house, his and Ori's suspicions had been confirmed. Bilbo and Bofur had done an excellent job hiding what they'd just done, but Fili saw their faces. Red and happy, their eyes failing to not look at each other. 

He knew for sure after seeing that. But he didn't tell anyone. He wanted to tell Kili, he usually told Kili everything. But Ori had made him promise to stay quiet. The scribe knew that the more people who knew this secret, the sooner it would all get back to Thorin. It was very clear that Thorin wouldn't react kindly to this information. He'd made that fact obvious when he'd threatened Bofur within earshot of anyone at camp who was paying attention- which luckily hadnt been anyone other than Ori. 

 

The company left Rivendell that afternoon. It was arranged that Gandalf would remain another day to attend to some wizardly business while Thorin led everyone else out through the misty mountains. 

Bilbo was sad. Sad to see Rivendell go, and sad that everyone had gone back to avoiding him. Even Bofur. Ever since Fili Kili and Oin had entered the bath house, Bilbo and Bofur hadn't had a moment alone together. Whenever Bilbo tried to approach the dwarf while anyone else was present, Bofur strayed far away from the hobbit, making rushed excuses like: 'Bombur needs my help,' 'Nori asked for some pipe weed..' With these curt and confusing excuses, Bofur would hurry away. Bilbo noticed a pained look of separation on the dwarf's honest face every time he walked away. These excuses were both conf suspicious to Bilbo. He didn't know what was going on, why this dwarf who seemed to like him so very much was suddenly avoiding him as if he were an elf, but sonething was definitely not right. Always before, Bofur would constantly talk to and cheer up and give his good company to the hobbit who was once again regretting his decision to leave the Shire. 

What made Bofur's absence worse was the strange look Thorin seemed to direct at Bilbo constantly. Bilbo didn't know what the look meant. The dwarf's eyebrows were knitted together, his eyes were narrowed, as if he was angry. But his mouth was soft, almost welcoming, almost twisting up into the faint smile that had so charmed the hobbit that night in Rivendell. Bilbo avoided looking at Thorin. The expression on his face made the hobbit think of the misplaced enjoyment Thorin had given him, but then he remembered the bruises which weren't close to disappearing yet. 

Bilbo didn't want to think about the consequences of everything that had happened at Rivendell. He knew for sure only a few things: Thorin had kissed him, Bofur had kissed him, and he knew in the deepest part of himself that he had enjoyed both dwarves. But the two of them were worlds apart. Bofur seemed to genuinely care about Bilbo, and wanted the hobbit to know exactly how he felt, while Thorin- if he cared about Bilbo at all beyond his physical appearance- was not in the slightest skilled at expressing emotion. Thorin, so it seemed to Bilbo, was only interested in the hobbit because he was a new toy, a new body to conquer. 

This theory was of course incorrect. Thorin, king though he may be, was still a dwarf, and loved only once in his life. Like most dwarves, Thorin had experimented before- it does get so lonely on long journeys. But it was always understood by both parties that no love was exchanged during these experiments. Those nights between friends were meant only to prepare for the True Love of later life, and to quench the lonely heartache that comes with having a long life and waiting so long to find one's Love. 

But there was no way for Bilbo to know any of that. He had mostly forgotten the conversation between himself, Bofur and Gandalf at Bag End. So he went on thinking that there was no extraordinary, utterly binding force between himself and each of the dwarves. He had plenty of time to let these false theories grow beyond their rightful sizes, for he was alone. He hardly spoke to anyone anymore. His days were filled with walking and walking and walking and walking and walking. 

 

The ponies had long since run away, which was both good and bad. Now Bilbo didn't have to worry about sharing rides with dwarves who didn't like him, or dwarves who had kissed him and made him feel they wanted him and then ignored him completely the next day. But now he had to deal with all the physical discomforts of travel. They were high up in the mountains, walking through long thorned grasses and over very uneven ground. By the end of the first day, poor Bilbo was sore everywhere, cut up by thorns and bleeding from hours and hours and hours of walking. 

Relief came in the humble form of Thorin calling to stop and set up camp. A roaring fire was made and Bilbo sighed in exhaustion as he collapsed to the ground, too tired to care where he sat. After the luxury of Rivendell, the cold harsh winds and the long winding roads were greatly affecting him. All he found that he wanted was to be back in a warm bed, potentially not alone. 

The more that he began to fixate on it, the more he realized that he could not decide whether he preferred the company of Thorin or Bofur. On the one hand, there was His Majesty, strong and strikingly beautiful. Always ready for a fight and willing to die to defend his people. At just the thought of him, shivers went down Bilbo's spine. 

And then there was Bofur. Sweet, witty, cheery Bofur. This dwarf had a charm about him that drew Bilbo nearer to him every time he spoke. His voice alone was enough to make Bilbo want to kiss him, touch him, just be with him again. With his affinity for toy making and his ability to always make the hobbit smile, Bilbo was utterly torn.

As much as he had enjoyed his bath with Bofur, he could not stop replaying that image of Thorin in his head. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured Thorin roughly shoving him up against the wall, feeling the warmth of his strong hands as they explored his small stature. It was a mental battle of passionate, lusty nights and tender, warm baths and cuddles by the fire. Bilbo honestly was without a clue as to which was winning. He wanted to talk it out, and since Bofur wouldn't speak to him, he decided to seek out Thorin. These feelings needed to clear once and for all.

Dinner was served: a leafy mix of gross, overcooked greens stewed together with fatty meat strips from some animal Bilbo couldn't identify. He had been planning on sitting alone, to collect his thoughts for what he wanted to discuss with Thorin. But his plans were not to be carried out. 

His lonely seat on the most insect-free rock he could find was soon invaded by none other than that whom he most feared. Dwalin. The king's body guard towered over the hobbit, glowering down at the frail burglar. 

"Yes?" Bilbo asked shakily, noticing immediately that Dwalin had a hand on the shaft of that hammer he always had with him, the hammer that could crush Bilbo into a pulp if Dwalin chose to do so. 

"Come here," the dwarf demanded flatly, turning around and gesturing for Bilbo to follow him.

Dwalin led the hobbit a good distance away from camp, to a small space created by a circle of very large rocks. There appeared to be only one way in and one way out. In the setting sunlight, shadows were cast upon every bit of ground, covering the entire space in darkness. But in the shadows stood a figure. A strong, magnificently proud figure, everything about it radiating dignity and power. Thorin Oakenshield. 

"Thank you, Dwalin," Thorin said with a slight trace of what might have been a smile and a nod to his body guard. Dwalin grunted acknowledgement and turned to leave, shoving Bilbo forward towards Thorin. 

"Why-?" Bilbo stuttered out when Dwalin had left, looking around and shrugging. Unless Thorin planned to attack Bilbo with passion once again, the hobbit could not see any obvious reason for this rendezvous. 

"Why are you here?" Thorin completed Bilbo's question, a good natured smirk on his lips. "You are here because I will you to be here. Also, you do not have any where else to be, do you burglar?" Thorin's words were a challenge, daring Bilbo to say he wanted to be in Bofur's company. 

"Well, no, I was just eating alone- I suppose I don't have any one else to be with," he sadly finished, thinking of the elusive Bofur. He sorely missed the toymaker. But Thorin did not give the hobbit much time to dwell on his memories of the Rivendell bath house. 

"Good. Tell me, Bilbo," Thorin stepped closer, his posture a mix of menace and seduction. "Is it not a common truth that a King is a finer mate than a peasant?" 

This question took all the words out of Bilbo's mouth. Thorin's meaning was clear, absolutely clear. Bilbo took a quick gasp at the directness of the query, and would have loved to take a few long, quiet moments to choose carefully words for a response. But when speaking to Thorin Oakenshield, it is not smart to remain silent for any length of time. 

"I believe each person is allowed to choose who they are best suited for," Bilbo returned smoothly, evading the question with all the practice that comes with talking to the Sackville-Bagginses. 

"You mean to say that some people may be short sighted enough to choose a toymaker over someone like me? Thorin's feet were just inches from Bilbo's, his powerful body hovering over the hobbit like some sort of storm cloud threatening to throw lightning down onto anyone who came up against him. "Is that what you mean?" His voice, though it was soft and gentle, had a very recognizable and potent edge to it. Bilbo had heard this voice of Thorin's in Rivendell, the night he had received the bruises. 

Bilbo was scared, just as he had been that night. He feared that if he rejected Thorin, the king would take his anger out on he who had taken Bilbo. Bofur would suffer for Bilbo's choice. A rejected and jealous Thorin could bring no happiness to the toymaker. 

Bofur had taken a very special place in Bilbo's heart. If he didnt know better, the hobbit may have called it 'love.' If Bofur was to be the victim of Thorin's wrath, Bilbo would do the only thing he could do to prevent it. He had to accept the King under the Mountain as a lover. 

"No, sir," Bilbo said quietly, his gaze falling to the shadowed ground. "I don't know anyone who wouldn't choose you."

Thorin, taking this as a sign of compliance, reached possessively for Bilbo, his strong hands becoming a vice around the hobbits face. His lips were cold as they met the hobbits, shocking and uncomfortable. Bilbo didn't know what to do, so he held the kiss, but not with any form of passion behind it. When Thorin finally pulled away, he wrapped his arm possessively around what was now his.

 

"Bilbo Baggins, you are now entering new life," he said in a grandly secretive whisper, meant to make Bilbo believe the words were for him alone. "You will be my royal consort, having wealth and status higher than you could ever have dreamed of!" He kissed Bilbo again, too excited to notice that the solemn, saddened hobbit was not kissing him back. "I'll have you wrapped in the richest furs and gems, every dwarf in my kingdom will bow before you!" This was the most excited Bilbo had ever seen Thorin, but it wasn't true excitement. He could see what it really was, a lust for power and a desire to win. "Come, let us announce our engagement to my company!"

But still, the hobbit could never hate him. The passion he felt deep inside, as much as he wanted to deny it, was just too strong. Even Thorin's beautifully simple smile couldn't stop Bilbo from jerking away from him at the word 'engagement.'

"Excuse me?" Bilbo gasped, staring the king straight in the eyes in defiance. He felt like a mouse trying to stand up against a lion. "Engaged?" He repeated in total disbelief. He reminded Thorin once again of how he'd acted at Bag End. The King couldn't suppress a royally arrogant chuckle at Bilbo's shock. 

"What else would it be, my hobbit? You are indeed mine. I said those words at Rivendell. Did you not believe me?"

"I suppose I figured there would be some sort of courtship before marriage, I mean, that's what normal people do!" He lectured, his attempt at authority quite amusing to Thorin. 

"No," the king replied, the edge of threat reentering his clutching the hobbit close to him and departing towards the camp at once, the hobbit literally attached to his side. It was as if Bilbo contained all the treasure in the world, and if Thorin let him go even a few feet away, the treasure would all be lost. Lost, just like Erebor, and his father and his grandfather. Thorin was not going to let that happen. /p>

 

The announcement to the company was hammered into Bilbo's memory as one of the most singularly painful, heart shattering experiences of all-consuming sadness that he ever had to go through. 

Bofur remembered it with similar sentiments. He added rage, jealousy and feelings of betrayal to his list of emotions. 

The toymaker was sitting by the fire, keeping up some pointless kuzduhl conversation with his cousin when Thorin had re-entered camp, Bilbo standing with a very wide and convincing false smile on his face. His lips may have been turned up, but the was no warmth in his eyes. His eyes were pinned to the one he truly wished to be with, who did nothing but stare coldy at the ground throughout the whole speech, trying to hide the tears that rolled down his face just as the bath water had done. 

When Thorin spoke of how Bilbo was now to be revered as a King's spouse deserves to be revered, Bofur damn near shot up and hit Thorin square in te perfect jaw. When the company cheered at the king's formal declaration of love, his heartfelt wedding proposal and Bilbo's well-acted acceptance, Bofur felt himself reaching for his mattock. 

The only thing that stopped him from attacking Thorin was Bilbo. The hobbit had chosen the king as Bofur had known he would. It made sense. Why would someone so perfect as Bilbo Baggins choose a simple, poor toymaker? So Bofur would do as he always had done through the many years of his life: pretend to smile and hope that those he cared about were happy. 

 

That night, Bilbo slept in Thorin's bedroll. The king had insisted on it, as they were now engaged. Bilbo had to force himself to remember he had to pretend this was what he wanted. He resigned himself to the fact that Thorin was his life now. Slipping into the fur blankets, Bilbo had initially placed himself as far from Thorin as possible, but the king would have that. He wanted his hobbit to be with him. 

"Closer, Bilbo," he commanded, pulling the hobbit to him roughly. The night was late now, and Thorin wanted some contact with his Love. For he did love Bilbo, in his own way. He loved Bilbo as he loved everything else- he loved to own him. Bilbo was essentially just another treasure. Given, he was a treasure as valuable to Thorin as the arkenstone, but a treasure nonetheless. 

Bilbo allowed himself to settle into Thorin, their noses almost touching. It was a rather chilly night up in the mountains, and- strange as the situation was- he was glad to have some warmth. 

Even as Thorin locked their mouths together and Bilbo let his lips move with the king's, the hobbit thought only of Bofur. Even as Thorin began to let lust consume him and his hands roamed over the fascinatingly beautiful hobbit body before him, Bilbo was not really participating.

This engagement night went no farther than kissing, for Bilbo did not let it. He was not ready to let Thorin own his body yet. The king could take his life by force, make the hobbit his husband. But he could not make Bilbo Baggins love him. 

 

Back at that first night at Bilbo's own home, the hobbit had seen Bofur first. He hadnt known it, but at the moment he first saw that dwarf with the funny hat and quirky moist ache and warm brown eyes, their hearts had been bonded forever. 

There was nothing Thorin could do to change that. 

And there was nothing Bofur could do to have Bilbo, to give him all the love he so deserved. Not as long as the hobbit remained with Thorin, Bofur would not interfere. 

However: hobbits, as Gandalf would later say, are remarkable creatures. You can learn all there is to know about their ways in a month. 

But even after a hundred years, they can suprise you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, things are starting to get a little sad. But nothing stays bad forever, things will work out eventually... just don't ask me how because I have no clue.
> 
> Oh yes, I ship Fili/Ori, that might come into play later, jsut saying:)
> 
> Sorry this chapter took forever to post, I had a severe case of writer's block these past days.
> 
> Please comment with what you like, what irritates you, etc., I want ot hearit all, it can only make the future stories better:)
> 
> Thanks for reading, you're the best!:D


	9. Storms for Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo tries to leave. 
> 
> Dwarves try to pull him back.

IX

Soft, delicate lips woke Bilbo up the next morning. Pleasamtas the watm sensation was, the hobbit refused to open his eyes: he'd just had the loveliest dream about Bag End and he did not want it to end. But the kiss was insistent, not willing to give up until Bilbo awoke. A roughly gentle hand caressed the side of his small face, it was a welcome feeling to experience intimate happiness so early in the morning.

Happy thoughts of Bofur drifted into Bilbo's half-asleep mind, memories of happy moments and affection. Bilbo reached his hand up to feel what should have been the dwarf's grand mustache, but there was no long, sweeping curl present. There was only rich and hard skin covered in a short, tailored beard. 

Thorin. Of course. Bilbo's fiancé. 

They had slept well away from the others, probably out if Thorin's desire to claim the hobbit entirely. That did not happen, of course. Bilbo had feigned sleep before the king had even been able to remove either of their trousers. 

Bilbo ended the kiss by opening his eyes to let Thorin know he was awake. 

"Good morning, my Love," Thorin said in a suprisingly warm whisper, wrapping his arms around the hobbit to make him sit up. "You missed breakfast." 

Normally, upon being informed of a missed meal, hobbits will fly into a panic. But not this hobbit, not on this morning. In fact, Bilbo was relieved. Having breakfast with the company would have meant that he would have ga to face them all. He would have to receive their congratulations all over again, have to fake that smile again. And he would have to see Bofur. Witnessing the toymaker weeping during the announcement the previous night had absolutely shattered Bilbo. But he knew that much worse than tears would come to Bofur if Thorin's offer had been rejected. Bilbo had no choice. 

"Don't worry," Thorin asserted, confused at the hobbit's thoughtful silence. "I saved you what I could," he added, as if that would fix the problem. Bilbo smiled vaguely, and accepted another kiss from Thorin. 

"Thank you," Bilbo muttered, trying his hardest to not think about Bofur. Thorin's hands felt too similar to Bofur's for the hobbit's taste. He wanted desperately not to enjoy being touched and kissed and held by the king, but the burglar couldn't help but feel accomplished that he had made the king be so enamored with him, a simple shireling. 

"Anything for you, Love," Thorin breathed as he rolled on top of Bilbo, his heavy weight nearly crushing the poor hobbit. But Thorin couldn't help it, he had been raised by Life to be Important, Commanding, Domineering. He had shaped himself as he shaped steel into the most effective weapons: hard and unbending as the stone that was so precious to the dwarven race. 

Bilbo found that he couldn't remain passive to the King's advances for long; his body wouldn't allow it. Regardless of what his heart wanted, his easily excitable hobbit skin longed to be under the touch of this strong dwarf, his lips begged to be kissed by this dwarf who so easily commanded power. 

Bilbo surrendered to his betrothed, allowing his body to have free reign over his heart's protests. He did not resist Thorin's physical declarations of love, even when his small arms were grasped so tightly he felt there might be more bruises. At that, he almost thought about how Bofur would react to more bruises, but he forced himself not to. 

With every new contact with Thorin, Bilbo hated himself more and more. His body smiled and moaned under the king's hands and mouth, but his heart cried out in pain. This was the wrong dwarf, it yelled to Bilbo. All the gold and jewels and physical pleasure in the world could not match the pure and true happiness that was only provided by Bofur. 

"I hate to interrupt my king when he is busy, but we have to move," came the kind but authoritative voice of Balin from behind the betrothed couple. The old dwarf was right. Storm clouds were rolling in quickly, and the company needed to pass over the mountains by nightfall, or they would be far behind schedule. 

Thorin begrudgingly disentangled himself from his hobbit and stood, reaching his hand down to help up Bilbo. 

"No, thank you, I'll find a way up myself," Bilbo politely declined the offer for assistance. Touching Thorin even one more time this morning would be too much for his tender heart to bear. 

"Right then," Balin said pleasantly when Bilbo had awkwardly managed to stand up, his knees weak. "Come and join the others. We need our king to lead us, Thorin."

 

Balin left and Thorin followed, without so much as another look to Bilbo. He was not a lover anymore, he was King Thorin, Leader of the Company. The fact that he could switch between personalities so quickly absolutely baffled Bilbo, who stood there alone, mouth agape. He had been left alone one too many times on this trip. But there was nothing he could do about it now. He couldn't even go to Bofur to have a good laugh to cheer him up. He couldn't risk being seen with the toymaker. Thorin or Dwalin might notice, and then it would be Bofur who would have bruises- or likely much worse than bruises, Bilbo corrected himself. There was nothing he could do but be alone. Alone protected him, and it protected that one dwarf whom he cared for. And that was what mattered: that Bofur was safe. 

Bilbo made his way back to the main camp and was given by Gloin several heavy packs to carry. The hobbit tried to throw a joking glance to Bofur as he commented that the packs were larger than him, but Bofur was pointedly not looking at Bilbo. Dealing, however, caught Bilbo looking at the Toynbee. Consequently, the hobbit was shadowed by the monstrous, loyal and quiet bodyguard for the remainder of the day. 

After a long, lonely, arduous day of walking and not speaking to anyone, Bilbo saw the Misty Mountains. They were tall and grand, and sinister. Black clouds loomed around their peaks, clouds that looked so full of rain that they were about to burst. Bilbo knew these clouds well, though they were rareback in the shire. They brought heavy rains that flooded fields and ruined crops, and they brought lightning that could catch anything on fire, even in the onslaught of heavy rain. No good came from these foreboding dark masses. Bilbo, given his way, would never be close enough to see the underside of these clouds. 

But, it's a rare thing that Bilbo was given his way on this journey. The only path to Erebor, according to Balin, led straight through these mountains, directly under the clouds. The company marched onwards, reaching the mountains without showing any signs of fear. 

That is when the storm hit. 

 

The next terrifying minutes were filled with horrifying lightning strikes and rolls of thunder, and two or three accounts where Bilbo was an inch away from death. And every time Bilbo was on the edge- literally- Bofur was the one to pull him back and save him before Dwalin could touch the hobbit. 

Somehow, despite Dwalin's menacing glares, Bofur and Bilbo had ended up walking the narrow mountain path next to each other. Bilbo could have sworn Bofur had done it on purpose, to watch over him. But he didn't want to think about that. It only made him sad that he couldn't acknowledge the dwarf beside him to thank him or to apologize. 

He did not have long to think about being sad. The mountain on which he stood had turned into a stone giant! His conscious brain turned off then, his instincts and his fear overriding all thought as a great sheer rock face sped towards him- or perhaps he sped towards the rock? It didn't matter. He would be crushed to death either way.

At least he would die beside Bofur. 

All at once, Bilbo found he was still alive, dangling by one hand from a cliff. His senses were blurred with horror, but he could hear Bofur calling out to him, trying to help him up. But Bofur was too far. 

Them, for the first time that day, Thorin was snapped out from being the leader and protected his betrothed. The king made a magnificent rescue, scooping the hobbit up while putting his own life at risk on the miniature, slippery, rock ledge beneath his feet. He was lucky enough to be saved by Dwalin, barely. 

 

Thorin rushed immediately to his One, who lay, nearly immoble, on the stone ledge that could hold most of the company. The rain beat down on Bilbo's blanched face, falling into his open mouth and soaking his hair. Thorin hovered blurrily above him, shaking him and asking in a muffled voice if he was alright. Bilbo said nothing. He just stared forward, his body shivering. 

"He's not responding!" Bofur yelled in a panic, frantically trying to find something to do to help, but Thorin batted away any attempts at assistance from any member of the company. Especially from Bofur. 

"Someone find shelter!" Thorin ordered, taking off his cloak and draping it over Bilbo like a blanket. Bofur's cheeks flamed red at the sight of that. 

It should be my leather jacket on him, Bofur thought, furious. Not some rich and fancy fur cloak. He doesn't need all that. He just needs warmth. 

Had Bilbo been able to read Bofur's thoughts, he would have agreed. 

 

While the rest of the company fretted  
over Bilbo's strange, silent condition, Dwalin scouted out a nearby cave and soon announced it was clear. Thorin picked up Bilbo and delivered him to the dry ground of the large cave. He laid the hobbit down gingerly, trying not to injure any hypothetical wounds he might have already sustained, though no blood was visible. 

"Oin! Come, see what is wrong with my hobbit," The king requested of the old healer, his voice breaking with worry for his only Love. 

Oin inspected the silent hobbit carefully, the whole company crowding into the cave and waiting for a conclusion. 

Thorin, now ceasing to speak so Oin could concentrate, had managed to recompose himself a little, outwardly at least. He stood by Dwalin, taking very deep breaths to calm himself as he looked at the staring eyes of the -no; His- hobbit. 

 

Bofur was lost to worry for his Love. He no longer cared for outward appearances; the opinions of the company were the very last thing on his mind. Tears streamed silently down his face, sniffles occasionally racking his upper body. 

Bilbo was traumatized. He might be blind, from the way he was staring at nothing. He may have lost his memories, might have injured his head somehow. 

These thoughts and more raced through Bofur's head, terrible thoughts. 

"Oin, what in the name of Mahal is the matter with 'im?" Bofur heard himself yell through a tear stained voice. He hadn't intended the words to come out at all, let alone come out with so much obvious love in them. "What's wrong with our burglar?" He asked again, very quietly this time, dabbing at his eyes with his knitted hand warmers. 

Oin stood up, ignoring or not hearing the clear words of true love that had been spoken. He had finished his analysis. 

"Mr. Baggins will be just fine," he announced. Bofur began to sob in pure relief, kneeling down as close as he dare go to Bilbo. Thorin let out a heavy sigh, this burden of losing his fiancé lifted from his shoulders. 

Seeing Bofur's dramatic and touching display of concern, Thorin collapsed to his knees as well, pressing a kiss to Bilbo's forehead. This was a gesture with two goals: to attempt to comfort Bilbo, and to let Bofur know who this hobbit belonged to. Bilbo was Thorin's to worry about and to help. Bilbo was to be a King's consort, not some peasant's companion. 

"But, how?" Ori piped up in curiosity, clinging to Fili's solid form in the cold, dank cave. Fili always made things safer for Ori. 

"Yes, how?" Fili echoed needlessly, just trying to reinforce Ori's question. The scribe's voice was so weak when he got cold, Oin was not likely to hear it. 

"He's in shock. You lot would be in shock, too, with what he's been through," he reprimanded as an overexcited Kili let a small, arrogant snicker escape his young mouth. "He'll be perfectly right again in a few hours. He just needs to rest up a bit." 

 

Because of the recent turn that the hobbit had taken, the group had agreed to spend the night in the cavern and rest themselves. Completely exhausted from the storm, most everyone fell immediately to sleep, with the exception of Bofur who was keeping watch. With this time to himself, he sat in thought, plotting ways in which to get Bilbo back. 

All of this thinking brought him to years, as he realized that he may never be with him again. Once Thorin claimed something for his own, he never let it go. A stir among the slumbering group stirred Bofur out of his revery, causing him to turn. What he saw caused a familiar glow he felt in his stomach; it was the sight of Bilbo, standing before him, satchel and walking stick in hand.

"Master Bilbo. I... Where do you think you're going?" As much as he felt anger toward the hobbit for not choosing him, he also knew there wasn't much of a choice for him. Thorin was strong, and could force Bilbo's hand easily. More than anything, he felt sorry for Bilbo. Sorrow, and an overwhelming desire to kiss the man before him. There was a long pause before Bilbo finally spoke.

"Back to Rivendell. I don't belong here. I have to get away from it all." Bilbo hoped that Bofur would just assume he meant 'get away from all the adventures and shock inducing, death defying terrors that come with it.' Bofur, of course, could read through that and see exactly why Bilbo was leaving. The hobbit had to get away from love and possession and happiness caused and destroyed by it. 

"Ye mean from Thorin, don't ya?" The look on the hobbit's face changed to one of panic. He hadn't realized how much Bofur knew about how he was feeling.

"Yes... I am not ashamed to admit that he frightens me. But before I go, I just wanted you to know;" he paused here, preparing himself to say words he had never meant in his life until right now. "I loved you. I don't know when it started or how, but I did. I'm forcing myself not to now because it's making leaving all the more painful. But you must understand that I can not be married to Thorin. I couldn't bear to live out the rest of my days knowing that I was the lover of your future king, rather than you." Tears sprang to Bofur's eyes as well as Bilbo's. Without thought, the dwarf reached out to him, and Bilbo willingly complied, for all that he wanted was to be in his lover's embrace. They both held tight, crying in each others arms. 

"I wish ye all the luck in the world," Bofur sobbed into Bilbo's hair, tangling his fingers in the curls he may never get to feel again. "I really do!" He finished loudly, unable to control his overwhelming sadness at the loss of the only person he would ever love. 

Bofur's exclamation woke Thorin, who had been sleeping very soundly. The king almost had time to register the emotions between Bilbo and Bofur before he noticed a crack developing in the ground around him. 

The rest was a bloody, scary, terrifying blur. One moment the whole company was tumbling down a ragged hole and falling into a cage, and after that Bilbo didnt know what happened to them. The hobbit slipped away, and ended up playing the most life-threatening game of riddles ever played. 

He found the ring, and it made him invisible. He escaped unharmed.  
He couldn't believe it. 

Before he thought about how lucky he was, he thought about what was to become of the dwarves- particularly Bofur. They had all fled the cave- bilbohad seen that Gandalf had returned!- but Bilbo didn't know if they were safe. He didnt waste one second before running madly down the mountain to reunite with the company he ha previously been so ready to leave behind. After slipping off the ring and revealing his presence to the others, they happily welcomed him back, no one but Thorin and Bofur knowing his original intent to leave forever. 

As the group proceeded on their way, Bilbo was glued to Thorin's side, as was expected. The dwarven king pretended not to have heard anything about his hobbit's attempted escape. He hadnt heard the confessions of love that passed in the cave, but he knew Bilbo was under some sort of stress. 

Thorin knew well of Bilbo's fondness for the toymaker, but he did his best to forget about it. Bilbo had agreed to marry him, and- once married- Thorin could make sure by, royal decree, that Bofur never got anywhere near his hobbit. Thorin saw Bilbo's eyes drift sideways, darting about as if trying to catch sight of Bofur. The king seized the hobbit's hand, pulling the whole body of the halfling towards his own. He gave the startled Bilbo a look of complete adoration, even letting his lips curl up into the smile that he knew drove Bilbo mad with desire. 

It was true, the poor hobbit simply could not resist the king when he saw those icy eyes melt into the likeness of a clear blue sky. It made the threatening dwarf transform into a someone with a heart, maybe someone capable of love. Just maybe. Bilbo smiled back, trying to suppress any feelings of lust he felt at Thorin's hard beauty. He wasn't sure why he pushed those feelings away, Since they were now officially engaged. Somehow the feelings made Bilbo feel... Disloyal. 

 

As the pair walked ahead of the rest, hand in hand, Fili and Ori followed close behind, silently observing their behavior. Fili strode confidently beside his small friend, wondering why Bilbo tolerated Thorin's overbearing dominance. 

"Ori, what do you make of those two?" Ori shyly turned to face him, admiring his luscious golden locks in the process.  
"Well, I'm sure that Master bilbo makes our great king very happy. I mean, what's better than true love?"  
"You've got to be kidding Ori. You're too naive. Bilbo is obviously afraid of what will happen if he rejects his majesty. Besides, you yourself have noticed how Bilbo and Bofur act around eachother." He paused here to think, sorting out recent events. Ori knew Fili didn't think quite as quickly as most people, so the scribe waited patiently. "But they don't act that way anymore," the prince continued pensively. "Not since rivendell. I wonder what happened?" He asked this question to no one in particular. Ori, trying to be positive, attempted to answer. 

"Maybe it was when Thorin told Bilbo how much he loved him? It must have been truly romantic. Flowers, poems, all the things that should accompany a proper marriage proposal- I'm sure that's what changed Bilbo's mind," he said with a smile, choosing to ignore the fact that Thorin was definitely not the kind of dwarf to have anything to do with the storybook kind of romances Ori so loved. 

Fili snickered, giving the scribe a mocking look. Ori looked down in shame, feeling ridiculous for having said a thing like that. Fili stopped laughing when he saw the downtrodden look on his companions face, for he never wished harm or sadness upon this dwarf. Reaching for his small, familiarly delicate hand, he gently intertwined his fingers with Ori's and continued walking, hoping that this small gesture was enough to show Ori he was sorry for his mocking. Of course, Ori accepted the apology, placing a kiss on the prince's cheek, then quickly pulling away- their relationship had to remain secret. It was 'unfit' for a prince to be destined for a dwarf of common blood, so the two young dwarves hid their Love as best they could, even though every member of the company had long, long ago figured out what was going on, and completely accepted the couple. 

Trailing behind the two young lovers was Bofur, watching longingly and wishing that he and Bilbo were in the same position. He found that he no longer could come up with ways to try to improve the morale of the company. He told no stories around the campfires, told no jokes on the trail. He couldn't even figure out things to bet on. His heavily booted feet felt the weight of travel for the first time in his life. It was as if the sun's light had gone out, the cloud of loss shielding all happiness from the poor toymaker. 

He watched as Fili drew Ori into a warm embrace and his heart sank. He'd spent his whole life waiting to find his One, waiting patiently, warding off the sting of loneliness by surrounding himself with his family and closest friends. Now he had found Bilbo, the One he'd been waiting so faithfully for. And Bilbo had chosen someone else. 

Damn royalty! Bofur thought venomously, mentally cursing the line of Durin. It was disloyal and almost blasphemous, he knew, but he didn't care. Love was the only thing in life that truly mattered, and the heir of Durin had stolen Love from him. 

He wanted so terribly to tear Thorin away from Bilbo. The king was not what Bilbo truly wanted, Bofur was sure of that now, absolutely sure. He just couldn't figure out why Bilbo had agreed to spend his life with Thorin rather than himself, whom Bilbo had admitted to loving. 

Bofur was saved from the horribly adorable sight of Fili and Ori by the loud cacophony of howling, growling wargs loping ferociously down the mountain slopes. They were headed straight for Bilbo. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, fili/ori is a part of this now:)  
> I apologise for how ridiculously long this took to post, I just couldn't settle on an ending. I decided a cliff hanger was fine because I wasn't happy with anything I tried to do after it:)  
> Ill do my best to make sure I get the next chapter up sooner than I did this one:)
> 
> I hope you liked it and as always I adore comments and feedback and advice:)


	10. Tears for Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is overwhelmed and finds his strength. 
> 
> Dwarves cry and fight with equal passion.

"Bilbo!" Bofur yelled, alerting his Love to the danger closing in quickly. The wargs were still far, but the growling from their sharp toothed mouths was more than audible. 

"Th- Thorin..." Bilbo stuttered, his voice failing him out of terror. "Do something!" He managed to breathe out. Thorin drew his magnificent sword and pushed Bilbo behind him protectively, even though Bilbo was still in just as much danger as ever. 

Gandalf called for the whole party of dwarves to gather behind him. The 13 companions packed tighty together, all of their weapons out, even Ori's slingshot and Bilbo's "letter opener." Bofur, however, was not focused o the danger the wargs posed to him, but the threat their growling made to his Bilbo. The toymaker was in a state of panic, to be sure, but the fear was mitigated by his intense need to protect his Love. The wargs were halfway down the hill now.

Thorin Oakenshield's mind was saturated with battle plans and the weaknesses of wargs. Adrenaline coursed through his royal blood and he was truly in his element. Bilbo thought him to be quite beautiful like this. 

"Be ready!" Thorin ordered loudly, his voice ringing loudly in the ears of the whole party, calling each and every member to action and battle- except Bilbo and Bofur. In truth, their thoughts were of eachother's safety. 

The wargs moved so close that Bilbo could see the yellow and brown stains that covered their dagger like teeth. His heart beat like a war drum and the snarling echoes of his attackers filled his head. Thorin let out a vicious, enraged battle yell that shattered the wolves domination of all sound and set Bilbo, who had been clinging to Thorin, to the ground, clasping his temples. The yell had been too raw, too like the rough animal attentions Thorin had thrust onto Bilbo at Rivendell. Bilbo's brain and heart were in shambles, tears of overwhelming emotion tearing wet cracks in his face. 

Bofur got so impassioned at the sight of Bilbo in such pain that he separated from the group. With his mattock raised high, he unleashed a battle cry of his own, imbued with the fire of his love. He charged the warg nearest him, still a good distance away. 

The warg seemed almost to grin in delight at this foolish dwarf offering himself up to death. Bofur didn't see the warg as he struck it to the ground with one mighty blow- he saw a wolf's body with King Thorin's head. 

He barely even registered the warm blood that was spattered on his hands in an array like the stars of the night sky.

The wargs had never seen anger like this from a dwarf before. Not being the brightest of beasts, Bofur's display of fervor and power- coupled with some flame from Gandalf's staff, was enough to make the wargs shrink away in defeat, realizing that this party would not be an easy meal. 

As the wargs departed, the company was silent, except for the whimperings and shallow breaths of Bilbo Baggins. 

"Well," Gandalf began, clearing his throat. "That was very impressive, Bofur," he grumbled, starting to walk away towards the edge of the cliff, muttering something in a language none of them could understand. 

"Yes," Thorin agreed through grated teeth. "Very impressive." For the first time, Thorin noticed Bilbo, still hyperventilating. "Bilbo!" He exclaimed in a muted whisper, falling to his knees and cradling his hobbit in his strong arms. "It's ok," he repeated over and over again, touching Bilbo's curls and not knowing what else to say. 

Bofur watched them with misty eyes. He wanted nothing more in his life than he wanted to be the one holding Bilbo at that moment. As Bilbo's beautiful hair was beig handled by the rough fingers of the king, fire began to ignite deep inside the toymaker once again. Killing the warg had served only to fuel his anger at the king. 

"Are you alright?" Gloin asked sincerely, curious to the reason Bofur had lost all happiness on this journey. 

"Thank ye for askin', Gloin," Bofur said kindly, but with no warmth in his smile. "But no. Do ye know what it's like to not be able to be with your One?"

"What? Who?" Gloin demanded. He'd always been a rather thick dwarf when it came to other's feelings. Bofur just smiled sadly and directed his gaze to Bilbo, still on the ground being embraced by his royal fiance. His tiny sword was still in his hand, his muscles locked tightly around it, the one thing that could protect him. 

"Now, I suppose we must all find a way down this mountain," Balin surmised hopelessly, looking down the sheer cliff before the party. 

"Not necessarily," Gandalf interjected, busying himself with a large grey moth he'd managed to catch. The dwarves around him barely noticed his odd behavior. He was after all a wizard, and they have odd ways. 

"Th- Thorin," Bilbo breathed in a terrified whisper, but the king ignored his mysterious fear Thorin just continued petting his hobbit's soft curls. 

In all the commotion and emotions of the warg attack, no one but Bilbo had noticed that one of the beasts had lingered. Hidden behind a tree on the slope, one enraged warg snarled, baring its yellow fangs to Bilbo. It began its slow descent down the slope in silence, well aware that no one of significance was paying attention to it. 

"Warg... Still here," Bibo tried to say, but his lungs were sill recovering from his panic attack, so no words issued from his lips at that critical time. 

The monster slunk closer to the group, all of whom had focused their eyes on the cliff. Even Bofur, exhausted from his impassioned attack, was seated on a stump, his eyes resting. The sharp, mean teeth of the warg were only inches from Thorin's unsuspecting neck when Bilbo felt a surge of strength in his arm. His muscles tightened around the hilt of his weapon and he thrust the blade upward, right into the evil heart of the monster. In its last moments, the warg locked eyes with its killer, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. Just then, Bilbo noticed that it's eyes were the same shade of ice blue as Thorin's. More memories invaded Bilbo's mind. Thoughts of love and pain and murder, all twisted into one. Bilbo closed his eyes and twisted the blade, wishing to end the suffering for this monster. 

The dead beast slumped down onto Thorin's back, causing him to jump up and shout, sword raised. 

"Bilbo!" Gandalf said in suprise. He strolled over to congratulate the hobbit, but poor Bilbo had fainted. "Curious," the wizard mumbled to himself. "Hobbit turned hunter... In selfless defense of his betrothed? Or in selfish defense of his own life?" 

The same thought ran through Bofur's mind as well. He wanted nothing but the cradle the feeble hobbit in his loving arms, to kiss him and comfort him, wrap him in a blanket until he woke up, then kiss him again. But as soon as the toymaker stood up and started for his Love, King Thorin shot him a menacing look of warning as briefly darted his royal eyes to Dwalin, who then took out his axes. 

Bofur remained by his stump, tears forming in his warm brown eyes. 

"Bofur, why don't you play us a song on that whistle of yours?" Gloin asked in innocent need of music. "It's been too long since we've had us a good song, eh toymaker?" He nudged Bofur's arm playfully. Bofur turned to face Gloin, an unhappy smile under his long mustache. The tear gleaming in his eye made Gloin gasp. "Bofur, really now, are you alright? I miss my One too, she's back at home with my Gimli. I miss her every moment of every day. But you know what gets me through it?" He placed a comforting hand on the unhappy dwarf's shoulder. "Knowing that she's back at home, waiting for me to come home and take her in my arms and make her forget I was ever gone, you know what I mean?" He finished with a dwarvish chuckle. Bofur smiled politely and forced a small laugh. 

"I appreciate you tryin' to cheer me up, Gloin, I do. But it's not quite like that." 

"Well what is it like then, my friend?" Gloin asked cheerfully. 

"My One has agreed to be with someone else forever," Bofur said. Gloin's cheery face was immediately drained of joy. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Bofur," he began, not really knowing what to say. "I- umm- I'm very sorry about... That. Who- who is it?" His stuttering made Bofur smile, almost. 

"Ye really haven't noticed, Gloin? Oh, if only everyone had a mind like you," Bofur muttered, glancing at the ever watchful Dwalin. "It's Bilbo, of course."

Gloin didn't get time to respond, having been knocked momentarily speechless. Gandalf's booming voice broke all thoughts of the company. 

"Everyone to the cliff!" He shouted. "Our way out has arrived," his announcement suprised and bewildered all the dwarves, until they saw the magnificent giant eagles soaring overhead. Every dwarf but Thorin and Bofur rushed to the edge of the cliff, pushing and shoving eachother, all trying to be the first to ride an eagle. Gandalf ended their squabbles by leaping off the clif and landing square in the middle of one bird's shoulders. 

Thorin started to reach to pick up Bilbo, but one eagle, recognizing the King's importance, swooped down low and picked him up in its gigantic talons. 

"Bilbo!" Thorin called, wishing he could have taken his hobbit with him. He would not stand for Bofur helping Bilbo get an eagle, that would not be acceptable. As Thorin was carried father and farther away from the cliff, he glimpsed the toymaker getting close to Bilbo. Anger welled up in all of Thorin's being, and he began to concoct wild plans of how to get rid of the toymaker so Bilbo would be throughly His. 

Bofur's face lit up when he knelt beside Bilbo and caresse his soft skin or the first time in far too long. He gathered the hobbit into his arms and wept. He wept for Bilbo, who was being drained and exhausted by Thorin's oppression. Bilbo belonged with Bofur, the toymaker was sure of that. As of the moment Bilbo had confessed his love, Bofur's sole purpose in life was to make his One happy as only Love can do. And he was failing. Every tear let out his emotions, every whimper and cry intensified his love for the hobbit finally in his arms. 

His fingers would tightly in Bilbo's beautiful curls, once silky but now turned to a dirty mat of tangles by the journey. Bofur saw only beauty in Bilbo, even in his travel-worn skin and clothing, torn and dirty beyond anything Bilbo had ever seen in the Shire. Bofur placed a tearful kiss on Bilbo's forehead and settled his head on the hobbits chest, comforted by the soft heartbeat there. For the first time in too long, Bofur smiled with happiness. 

The joy was shattered abruptly by a swift kick to Bofur's back. He grunted and toppled onto his side, but had no time to open his eyes and see his attacker. He was pulled up forcefully by his collar, and found himself face to face to the British countenance of Dwalin. 

"I swear to Aulë, toymaker," Dwalin grunted, accenting his words with a punch to Bofur's nearly empty stomach. "If I ever see you touch the King's hobbit again, you're going to be worse than dead." 

Dwalin threw Bofur to the ground and picked Bilbo's unconscious body up over his massive shoulders, walking over to the edge of the cliff to be picked up by one of the remaining eagles. Ori, afraid to jump over the cliff, was the last of the company on the mountain when Dwalin reached the edge. Ori stared in shock at the warrior and the crumpled, weeping dwarf on the ground that was Bofur. 

"What're you lookin' at?" Dwalin threatened, snarling at the scribe as he stepped off the cliff with confidence. Ori rushed to Bofur's side. 

"What happened?" He inquired with compassion flooding his voice. Bofur sat up with some difficulty, brushing off Ori's attempts to help him. 

"I found Love, that's what happened," Bofur answered bitterly. "And it was stolen from me at the point of a sword- well, an axe," he chuckled weakly. "Be a good lad and help me to the cliff, would ya?" 

Ori of course, was a good lad and did help Bofur to the cliff. Eagles grasped them in their talons and took them through golden skies filled with sunrise-stained clouds to a mountain Gandalf called the Carrock. Ori was in awe of the beauty around him, of the fact that he was flying. Had Bofur been unhurt and uninstructed to his Love, he would've been in awe as well, he may have even sung a song. But he was gasping for breath and kept his eyes shut tight, painfully unaware of the glory around him. 

The eagles dropped them carefully onto the top of the Carrock. The giant birds were tired and had done what Gandalf had asked: get the company closer to the Lonely Mountain. The eagles departed to their home, not thinking again of the company. 

Thorin knelt again by Bilbo, who had yet to wake up. Gloin was talking with Kili about True Love and battle and the mysteries of the world. Balin and Oin stood near Gloin and Kili, chuckling together about the younger dwarves' naïve views of the world. Fili and Ori huddled together, the scribe regailing his golden warrior with tales of how beautiful nature is. Bombur and Bifur were snackig on some jerky they'd stolen from Bilbo's kitchen and saved for a special time like this. Gandalf explained the anatomy of wargs to a disinterested Dwalin, who kept a close eye on Bofur, who was alone. More alone than ever. 

Bilbo fluttered open his eyes and saw Thorin above him. 

"Bilbo!" The King exclaimed, showing off his joyous smile to his fiancé. "Thank the gods you're alright! You saved my life."   
Thorin kissed Bilbo's forehead, in the same spot the lonely toymaker had kissed just long ago enough for his tears to have disappeared. "I will never e able to thank you enough, my beloved. But I will try," he declared sincerely, kissing his hobbit's lips with all the passion a fiancé should possess. The king pulled away for breath eventually, and Bilbo had still not said a word. "Here, stand," the king suggested, offering his hand. Bilbo took the help, and shakily stood. He collapsed onto Thorin's sturdy chest and wrapped his small hobbit arms around the dwarf he was sworn to love forever. His eyes met Bofur's. 

The toymaker smiled cautiously at his Love, checking to see that Dwalin wasn't looking. Bofur hoped somehow that Bilbo had been aware of the emotional moment that Bofur had tried to share with his unconscious love. 

Bilbo gave the silent answer that Bofur so desperately needed. The hobbit glanced around carefully, then looked back to his toymaker and smiled. Just that smile would've been a miracle to Bofur, but Bilbo went farther, sleepily mouthing the words "I love you." 

Bofur, bruised, broken and tear soaked, was happy. Bilbo was pulled away from Bofur's view by Thorin, so Bofur closed his eyes and imagined that Bilbo was with him still, that he was kissing the hobbit's soft lips like he had in Rivendell. 

In that moment of imaginary bliss,   
Bofur was no longer alone. 

But reality was not so kind to the toymaker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so maybe this chapter is a little short, but I just had to post something. It's been far too long since I've updated this story. I promise it'll get less depressing soon, really! Just bear with me.


	11. Barns for Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo gets some new ideas and allies. 
> 
> The dwarves begin to change.

"We must head to safety," Balin declared quietly, his wise voice calming the dwarves down from the encounter with the wargs and near loss of their king. But not everyone was so relaxed.

"And where do ye propose we go?" Bofur spat in a sharp whisper, slicing through the happy atmosphere. He was through pretending all was well. 

Bombur, having spent life with Bofur, knew how venomous his brother could be. Always gifted with words, Bofur's tounge could be just as dangerous as the mattock he carried with him. Bombur knew his brother was close to breaking down and starting a battle with Thorin he would surely lose. He placed his plump hand on his brother's shoulder, reminding him that he was not alone. 

"Bofur, come sit," he said quietly, trying to calm Bofur down as he had always done when they were young. "I've got some bread for you if you're hungry," he added, knowing very well how effective food could be in a stressful situation. 

"Yes, sit," Dwalin growled, further encouraging the toymaker to take his anger elsewhere. 

"No," Gandalf chimed in brightly. "No one should be up here, sitting or not, when there is a far better seating option just down there," the wizard pointed with his staff to a lone house at the base of the Carrock. "That is our goal."

"I'm not sure Bilbo can make the hike right now," Oin advised the group, hinting a little at his own exhaustion. 

"No, no I'm fine," the hobbit corrected, digging deep for the strength to stand without his king's assistance. "Let's go," he finished, trying to sound chipper but not entirely succeeding. He cast his eyes down to the ground as he took several steps forward, not wishing to meet anyone's gaze. 

"Bilbo," Gandalf warned. "You're walking the wrong way."

Bilbo checked the direction of his feet and saw that he, indeed, was walking away from the house. He gave a slight embarrassed chuckle and turned around. 

"Ah, yes, of course," he muttered, his face turning red as a tomato. Bofur thought he looked adorable and completely deserving of a kiss on the cheek. 

"Thank you, Bombur, but I'm not hungry," Bofur said gently, comforted by his brother's presence. 

The party began its descent down the Carrock in mostly silence except for the odd precautionary comment by anyone who had nearly slipped. Bofur brought up the rear of the group, lost in thoughts about his Love so far away in body but so close in his heart. 

Bilbo's thoughts were similar, but infused with a spice of rebellion. Thoughts of independence and courage had been stirred in him when he had killed the warg. Something in him had shifted. He did not feel like the polite, fussy hobbit who had left the shire. He felt the beginnings of courage growing in his heart. Growing alongside the courage was an intensifying desire to be with the one he truly loved. It felt dishonorable to settle for being submissive to a king he did not really love simply because the king had power over him. 

But something told Bilbo that now was not the time to act on these thoughts. Thorin would not take it well and it would endanger both Bilbo and Bofur's lives, as well as anyone else in the party who sided with them. 

"Where exactly are we headed, Gandalf?" Thorin asked, slightly threatening. He did not like not knowing the destination of his party. 

"The home of an old friend and ally of mine," Gandalf replied sternly, unappreciative of Thorin's skepticism. "He can either be a big help to us or a big thorn in our side, but he will be big no matter what we do, so you best behave yourselves." The wizard's voice trailed off mysteriously, his cryptic words hanging in the air, intentionally leaving the party confused.

When they reached the bottom of the steep rocky path, their heads were filled with the constant buzz of extraordinarily large honeybees and the delicious scent of flowers. It felt warm and reminded Bilbo of some fields in the shire, which brought a genuine smile to his face. 

"We will have to pair up and stagger our entrances to the house. He does not like visitors," Gandalf said ominously, not leaving room for any alternative suggestions. "Thorin and Balin come first, about five minutes after myself. The rest of you find your own partners and come five minutes apart. And if you see a bear, a big black bear... Stay calm, drop your weapons and say you are with Gandalf the Grey. It may save your life."

With that, the wizard left. Thorin grabbed his hobbit by the shoulders and placed a royal kiss on his forehead. 

"I am sorry I cannot enter this place with you, my beloved, and I ask that you follow Balin and myself directly," Thorin said in a voice that Bilbo thought made him sound very cold and distant and kingly. But then he smiled and the hobbit's heart was warmed a little. "But if the great bear Gandalf spoke of appears, I will protect you." 

"Thank you, Thorin," Bilbo returned genuinely, but chose not to kiss his betrothed before the king walked away to be ready to leave with Balin. 

"Bilbo, will you walk in with me?" Bilbo was suprised to hear Kili's bright voice pose this request. The hobbit turned around to face the young dwarf and found himself at a loss for words for a moment and muttered something incoherent before clearing his throat and finding his manners again. 

"Why, yes, of course, Kili," he replied wit a polite smile. "But may I ask why you won't go with your brother? Usually, the two of you are inseparable."

"Well you see, it's supposed to be a secret," Kili said in a loud, indiscreet whisper. "But Fili and Ori are something of an item," he chuckled at the thrill he always got from telling his brother's secrets. "And they wish to be presented together. So I figured I'd walk with you! You could use a young handsome dwarf prince with you, right? You'll make me look good!" He landed a punch on Bilbo's arm- probably intended to be playful- that would develop into a bruise in an hour or so, Bilbo was sure. The pained expression on his face was apparently not clear enough to get through Kili's head, since he took the liberty to roughly tousle the dirty curls on the hobbit's head. "And besides, since neither of us can go with who we'd really like to, I think it makes sense for us to settle for eachother." 

"Why, yes, I do wish I could walk with Thorin," Bilbo said, almost convincingly, as his eyes landed on Bofur, far away talking quietly with Bombur. 

"Ah, yes, exactly," Kili said just as convincingly, giving a very obvious wink and thumbs up to Bilbo. "Thorin, your fiancé, whom you love dearly." He laughed quietly and tapped gently on Bilbo's chest with a small smile. "The heart is a complicated thing, burglar. Just because it's been promised to someone doesn't mean that's what it wants. And there's nothing wrong with taking what you want. That's what this question is all about isn't it?" He finished with a friendly laugh and another playful punch to emphasize his point. Bilbo could no longer feel his right shoulder but his brain was saturated with feeling and his thoughts set in motion by this prince's suprising burst of insight. 

"Yes, I suppose it is..." Bilbo's voice faded away.

"That was a brave thing you did back with the wargs. Were you able to see what Bofur did? It was impressive. The anger, the passion in his face- I think I saw tears. It seemed like more than an act of protection of the company, is all I'm saying," Kili added, noting Bilbo's emotionally flooded eyes looking up at him. They stood in silence for several minutes, Kili finding enough decency in his mischievous being to let Bilbo be alone with his thought, at least until he judged that it had been five minutes after Thorin and Balin departed. 

"Bilbo, I think we should go. We don't want to take too long," the prince's voice was calm, he knew there must be turmoil overwhelming the hobbit's mind, pushing out all thoughts of how long five minutes is. 

"Yes, we should," Bilbo agreed in a distracted voice, looking back to Bofur one more time before starting to walk to the house. The toymaker was the picture of a broken heart, his funny hat darkening his face. The braids that once had turned up happily at the ends now hung loosely at the miner's shoulders, seemingly unable to find motivation to curl upwards. The warm, light hearted dwarf who had begun this journey was far away now, replaced by this sad, hard and shadowed dwarf who was little more than a ghost of his former self. 

When Bilbo and Kili reached the door of the house, they were frozen by the sheer size. The doorknob alone was up to the top of Kili's head, and he was rather tall for a dwarf. 

"Wow," was all either of them could say. They could hear a strange, deep voice coming from inside, conversing about something somber with Gandalf. They both knew they had to open the door but were honestly rarer afraid. 

"I- umm I suppose Gandalf was telling the truth when he said this friend of his was going to be 'big', don't you think?" Bilbo asked with a nervous laugh more akin to a giggle than anything. 

"Bofur said you make jokes when you're scared," Kili said with a wry smile, also afraid to open the door. 

"Bofur said what?" Bilbo said, both suprised and pleased that Bofur had said anything about him. 

"He said quite a bit more, in fact," Kili paused and cleared his throat loudly to imply Bofur had said some things he did not particularly want to repeat. 

"Oh they're here!" Gandalf exclaimed, having heard the loud noise from Kili. He threw the door open, forcing Bilbo and Kili to stagger backwards as fast as they could to avoid being crushed by the heavy wood door. "Would you stand up! Beorn deserves your respect and respect means you get on your feet!" The pair scrambled up to their feet and teetered inside, their eyes immediately going up- way up- to see their host. Beorn must be at least twelve feet tall, or so it seemed to Bilbo. 

"It's- it is lovely to meet you- uh- sir? Beorn. It's nice to meet you, you have a big house- I mean, you have a lovely home here, Beorn," Bilbo sputtered out all of the words in nearly one breath, afraid and nervous and very happy to be in a real building again. 

"Thank you," replied the huge stoic man-beast, who gave a nod of his maned head. "Gandalf has convinced me of your honest intentions, Thorin Oakenshield. You and your company are free to stay here for no more than two nights, then you must leave to the forest. I will protect you until then. After that, you will be alone with each other once more. Is that clear?" 

"Yes, master Beorn," Gandalf answered, not allowing the proud stubborn dwarf king to mess up the deal he had reached. "Thank you very much for your hospitality."

The wizard and giant man continued with a conversation which quickly bored Bilbo's travel weary head. He decided to explore the man's large home. It was warm and comfortable, the wood reminding him a little of some homes in the Shire. It was nice to see beds again, and couches and chairs. It was a spartan home to be sure, but a comfortable one, especially after nights of sleeping on the ground. 

The rest of the company slowly began to arrive. Fili and Ori, Oin and Gloin, Dori and Nori, Bifur and Bombur and finally Dwalin and Bofur. Bilbo was struck by this last pairing. It meant Dwalin still had reason to keep Bofur away from Bilbo, which meant Bofur must still love him! As sad as the hobbit was, this gave Bilbo some hope. Hope that somehow he might be with Bofur again like in Rivendell- completely together and unchallenged. No impending marriages or quests or mountains or possible dragons or wargs or kings or anything of that sort. It was a faint and distant hope but it kept Bilbo's heart warm enough to keep a smile going, like a persistent ember in a faded fire. 

Bofur, desperately needing to get away from Dwalin's ominous presemce, secretly made his way to the barn behind the house and took a seat on an overturned, oversized bucket. He pulled out his knife and a piece of wood from his pack and began to work. It calmed him down to carve, it had always been that way. It made him feel like he had control over something- even if it was only the future of the wood in his hand rather than his life. 

Bilbo watched the miner slip away to the barn and stood in one of the tall hallways, unsure if he should risk going to him. What if Thorin or Dwalin was to catch them together? Bilbo did not want to think of the consequences. He turned around to walk back to the common area and then for the second time that day, Kili suprised him. 

"Oh no you don't," the prince said with a smile. He was joined by Fili now, the brothers shoulder to shoulder, blocking the hall. 

"What on earth are you doing?" Bilbo asked, getting a little frustrated by the young dwarves' antics. 

"Standing guard," Fili answered. 

"Do you remember what we talked about before we left for here, burglar? How you should find what your heart wants?" Kili was being very pushy now, but Bilbo knew his reasons were good. 

"We'll stay out here and make sure you two aren't bothered for a good long while," Fili promised seriously, crossing his arms like a true resolute guard. 

"Do you think this is a good idea?" Bilbo needed reassurance. The brothers hadn't proven to be the most trustworthy after their disappearance at the troll incident. 

"Yes, it will be fine!" Kili took Bilbo's still tender shoulder and turned the hobbit around towards the barn. "Now go to him, you both need to talk and you know that." 

That was true and Bilbo couldn't refute it. He took a deep breath and tried to primp his hair but quickly gave up on the tangled tawny mess on his head. He started down the hall and paused at the door to the barn, glancing back to the princes, who still stood in the hall, casually conversing with eachother but clearly alert. Kili caught Bilbo's eye and gestured for him to go on in to see Bofur. 

"We'll come get you if we have to," Kili whispered with a reassuring smile. Although he was still not completely convinced, Bilbo's heart won out against his head and he reached up to turn the knob to open the barn door. He gently pushed it open but couldn't bring himself to enter yet. 

"Hello?" Bofur's voice, though sad and quiet, still sounded like music to Bilbo, and enticed him to step into the barn and shut the door. 

"Hello, Bofur," Bilbo said warmly. The toymaker immediately flew to his feet and ran to throw his strong arms around his Love. 

"Bilbo!" Was his first exclamation, and neither of them said anything for a while, soaking up the joy of the tight embrace. Bofur pulled back slightly to place his tear soaked lips on his hobbit's soft neck. Bilbo felt tears come to his own eyes as well, and tried to speak but failed. He only managed a sob. 

"My Love, Bilbo, are ye alright?" Bofur asked, wiping the tears from the small hobbit eyes with his squarish dwarf thumbs. 

"I have not been so alright since I was last in your arms, Bofur," the hobbit said with every drop of love he had squeezed into his words. 

"I know, Bilbo, it's ok now, Love," Bofur stroked Bilbo's curls, still beautiful even in their current state. "That was really somethin', back with the wargs," Bofur praised, the smile now on his lips seemingly fixed there by some magical force. 

"So people have told me," Bilbo chuckled, bringing his hands up to feel his toymaker's long sweeping mustache once again. "I only did what any of you would have done," he said dismissively.

"But that's just the point, don't ya see? You're one of us now! Dwarves don't trust outsiders unless they can really prove their loyalty, and now you've done that! Congratulations, Bilbo," he gave his hobbit a soft kiss, keeping his face close to Bilbo's. The soft shire skin he had last kissed had thickened a bit, hardened by stress and adventuring in the sun and wind without a bath. But the toymaker didn't mind one bit. 

"I'm sorry Bofur," Bilbo whispered. "For... All that's happened."

"I know, Love, I know. I forgive ya, I know he, the grand dwarf king is a much better prospect for a life partner than me, a poor laborer dwarf. But should you ever change your mind-"

Bilbo cut him off with a passionate kiss, all the uncertainty at rivendell nowhere to be found. Their lips were together once more, and it was indescribable. Bilbo allowed his tounge to dart out between his lips and brush along Bofur's remarkably sweet bottom lip. His small hobbit fingers ran over Bofur's body, feeling every stitch in his shirt and every strand in his braids. Bofur's arms wrapped Bilbo in a tight, warm embrace that meant safety and love. This one kiss conveyed so many emotions words could not express. Bofur knew Bilbo loved him and they surrendered their hearts to each other beyond any doubt. 

"I love you," Bilbo breathed against Bofur's lips, tightening his hold on the back of the dwarf's thick neck. 

"You are Love itself to me, Bilbo Baggins," Bofur said entirely truthfully. He swept the hobbit up in his arms and carried him over to a size able pile of hay. He laid the small hobbit down in the bed of golden hay and granted a kiss to his delicate lips. "Will you let me show you how much I love you?" He asked in a hot whisper in Bilbo's sensitive ear. 

"Yes," Bilbo requested, curious and excited and warm and feeling as he had in Rivendell: unapologetically in love and undeniably aroused by Bofur's touch. The toymaker's hands were rough and coarse, but loving and dexterous and knowledgeable. The dwarf sunk to his knees and his fingers began to slip down to play with the fastening on Bilbo's pants. He skillfully got it undone and playfully let his hands travel back up Bilbo's shirt, slowly exposing the hobbit's lovely, soft middle as he went. Mustached kisses were bestowed on all the pale skin Bofur could find. The dwarf was lost in ecstasy, pure happiness of being allowed this time with his One. He had it in his head that this wonderful moment would never end. 

Thorin was busy talking to Beorn about the best way to fight wargs when he realized he hadn't seen Bilbo for some time. 

"If you'll please excuse me," he asked of the huge man without expecting an answer. With a slight nod of his head, he began to wander down the hallways, asking the members of the company if they'd seen Bilbo. No one had, but Ori had accidentally let slip that Fili had gone with Kili to talk to the burglar a while ago. 

Thorin found the princely brothers in the hallway where Bilbo had left them. 

"Where is Bilbo?" He demanded, impatiently dispensing with pleasantries. 

"Haven't the faintest clue, uncle," Fili claimed.

"You're his fiancé, aren't you?" Kili teased the king, taking a bite of an abnormally large apple he'd found on Beorn's dining table. 

"Yes I am, and if he's in danger then I will hurt anyone who put him there," Thorin said, quite seriously. 

Soon after, Bofur and Bilbo heard footsteps approaching the barn door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is setting up some very important plans I have, (no, i dont think Bilbo, Bofur and Kili are going to launch some sort of takeover, even though that would be fun! I still have to stay a little bit with the real story:p) so stay tuned to find out what will happen next and comment, give some thoughts on what you'd like to see happen, I'd really appreciate it! Thank you for reading!


	12. Drinks for Bilbo

Bofur was too lost in his Love that he did not take notice of the footsteps closing in on them. But Bilbo’s hobbit ears were more attentive than a dwarf’s, and he immediately noticed that they were in danger. He knew the sound of Thorin’s boots. And he knew that the powerful dwarf king would not think twice about killing Bofur right there in the barn if he was to see them like this. 

“Bofur!” Bilbo whispered urgently.

“Yes, Love?” The dwarf slipped in between kisses.

“You have to hide! Thorin is coming!” A potent wave of fear fell over the toymaker, his muscles seizing and his whole self going into a state of panic. 

“Fix your clothes, Bilbo,” He warned as he ran to the back of the barn, dropping to the ground behind an extraordinarily large cart of hay.  
The hobbit frantically pulled his shirt back down and tried to smooth out his hair, the booted footsteps getting louder along with his own heartbeat. 

“Bilbo?” Thorin’s voice called from just behind the door, the handle slowly turning. 

“Yes?” Bilbo replied, trying to sound normal over the roar of his panicked heartbeat. The handle turned faster and the door cracked open, Bilbo realizing at the last second that his pants were still undone but not having any time to fix them.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, what are you doing in here?” Thorin asked with genuine curiosity as he stepped into the darkened barn. 

“Well if you must know,” Bilbo said hurriedly, trying to find a cover story for himself. “I was not very comfortable with the bathroom in the house, everything was much too big for me, so I tried to find somewhere else to…” He purposely let his sentence trail off, fastening his pants and hoping that his story would explain why he was alone in a barn with his pants undone. Thorin seemed to accept the lie, making an uncomfortable face.

“I see. Well if you should choose to rejoin the group, we are mostly in the dining room,” The king said, trying to get out of this awkward situation. “Beorn has granted us a private room together for the night.”

“He has?” Bilbo asked, very excited at the notion of a real bed again. “That is very kind of him. I’ll be back in the house in a bit, I do appreciate you coming to check on me, but I’m really quite alright.”

Thorin smiled a sincere smile at the fast pace of Bilbo’s voice. The king found everything about Bilbo to be so comforting and enjoyable that he wished he never had to be without him. But he understood that his hobbit need some privacy, and left the barn. 

Bilbo held his breath as his future husband exited the building, and let out a sigh of relief as he heard the footsteps departing. “He’s gone,” he said, granting Bofur permission to stand up. The Hobbit knew that he had to do something about the situation he’d gotten himself into. The pain he was causing Bofur, the lies he was telling Thorin, it was all getting to be just too much for him to handle. His heart was torn in two and although he knew he loved Bofur, he did not hate Thorin. And behind the possessive behavior, the way that the king treated him as something to be had and kept, he could see the real feeling behind Thorin’s actions. Was it love? Possibly. Probably. The king just had a funny, scary way of showing it. 

“That was some story you gave him, Bilbo,” Bofur said gently, a soft smile gracing his face. While the smile lit up his features, Bilbo could see the hurt in the toymaker’s eyes. It was a smile that he had seen too often on this journey. 

“I’m so sorry, Bofur,” Bilbo whimpered, tears coming to him. The weight of everything had caught up to him, dragging him down from the high of kissing Bofur again. “I can’t keep doing this to you!” Bofur tried to rush up to take Bilbo in his arms and comfort him, But the hobbit had run out of the barn’s side door into the fields of giant bumblebees. He collapsed onto the ground, sobbing, and cursing Gandalf for making all of this possible.  
Why was he, Bilbo Baggins, the subject of such adoration from these dwarves? Why him? And what were the odds of two dwarves claiming him as their One? Had that ever happened before? The feelings for Bofur had come first, but there were feelings for Thorin as well. It was two different brands of love, and they were tearing Bilbo apart. The soft, loving nature of Bofur appealed to he side of Bilbo that had resided in Bag End all these years, while the hard edged love of King Thorin was attracting the part of Bilbo that had agreed to come on this quest. 

Why couldn’t hobbits be as sure of their love as dwarves? It simply wasn't fair, Bilbo thought over and over again. Not fair.  
And if he had to put up with this pain of not knowing, he figured he at least deserved to talk to someone about it. Someone who wouldn’t go telling anyone anything. In this company of dwarves, finding someone who met that requirement was a tall order. They told each other everything. Luckily, the dwarves were not the only people around him. Beorn was around. As scary of a notion as it was to talk to the giant man-bear who had graciously allowed them to stay in his home, Bilbo found he had no other choice, since he could not stand to be silent about his thoughts and feelings anymore.

The hobbit knew he had to get everything off his chest. But the mere idea of speaking to Beorn conjured up images in his brain of bears in the shire, and how angry they got if you did anything to bother them. He’d seen an old farmer with an arm missing, and it was said that it was a great brown bear that had taken the arm from him. He couldn't find the courage in himself to go see the master of the house. Fortunately, he didn’t have to try very hard.

“What is wrong?” A deep, calm voice asked from behind Bilbo. The hobbit sat up, attempted to dry some of his tears, and turned to face Beorn, who stood towering over the tiny Bilbo Baggins. “Do you miss your home? Your family?”

“Oh, I don’t have a family, really,” He replied, trying to force himself to smile pleasantly. “I do miss home, though. The grass out here reminds me of it a bit, actually,” he had just realized this, and more tears came to his eyes. Beorn sat down cross-legged beside him, still huge, but now closer to eye level for the hobbit. 

The shape changer looked at Bilbo with an expression of empathy. He liked his home on the edge of the forest, but nothing would ever fill the hole in his heart left by the violent deaths of his family. 

“I understand,” He said truthfully. “What is it that bothers you really?”

“It’s just home. The shire. Green grass and Bag End and books. Selfish reason to be crying, I know,” Bilbo added with a light chuckle. Beorn’s face gave no indication that he believed homesickness caused the hobbit to collapse in his field. 

“It’s an ailment of the heart,” Bilbo admitted softly. “There are too many options and none of them seem right or fair to any of us involved and I just dont know what to do and—“

“Come now,” Beorn interrupted with the note of gentle sternness in his voice which made him so powerful. “I am sure that the right choice is clear to your heart. Your mind just does not wish to acknowledge it.”

The bluntness of Beorn’s observation struck Bilbo. Was his brain getting in the way of him knowing the right thing to do? Did he truly know deep down what he should do? He had never considered that before. 

“Beorn, I can’t sort out the thoughts,” He said with a tearful whisper. He was spilling out all of thoughts and problems to this man-bear who scared him more than comforted him. And it was true that he was homesick. Bofur made him happy, made him forget about all the issues and situations and life or death matters on Bilbo’s mind, but Bofur was off limits. And Thorin might have the same effect, but Bilbo could not experience it because when he was with the king, all he thought about was the sadness of the toymaker. 

“Come inside. Have a drink. You will be fine,” Beorn promised, and Bilbo thought he might've seen a slight smile play on the man’s stoic face. 

A drink did sound like a nice option to the distressed hobbit, so he agreed to come inside, though he knew that the dwarves would be there as well.  
He had one drink. It was like nothing he had ever tasted before. It was certainly not tea, It was stronger than an ale, stronger than anything he had ever experienced. And it was delicious. It was warm and spicy and sweet at the same time, and it was rich, but had the quality of making you believe you needed more. So he had another. Then several dwarves came to sit by him, he wasn’t sure which dwarves at that point. And he had another. Then he stopped keeping track.  
He slipped into a daze, unsure of where he was, who he was with. He climbed up on the huge table and danced a classic hobbit jig, albeit with multiple stumbles and falls. One thing was for sure: He was certainly not thinking about love.

He felt happier than he had in days, no concerns nagging at him, no choices to make, except whether or not to have another drink, which was not a hard choice at all. He began to hallucinate, imagining he was in Bree, at a tavern he had heard of once from some travelers. There was fighting there, competitive matches between soldiers, sometimes for a reward of money, sometimes for pride, and sometimes for revenge and bloodshed. He could see two warriors, fighting for entertainment, or so it seemed from the almost casual way they made their attacks. Both were well armed, from what his fuzzy vision could tell him, and both were well trained and very familiar with fighting, both had swords. He couldn't tell who was winning, but the audience was making plenty of noise: excited noise, cheers, as well as moans of sympathetic pain and jeering calls for peace or mercy. The combatants were speaking to each other between blows, In a foreign language to Bilbo, but it seemed amicable. Eventually, one of the fighters struck the other one to the ground and was met with cheers for his victory, and was given a drink after helping his vanquished opponent to his feet. 

Almost immediately, another warrior stepped into the ring, awaiting a challenger. Bilbo had another delicious sip of his drink, everything now looking slow, and sounding like hardly anything at all, as if he was viewing and hearing his whole world through a veil of molasses. This new fighter seemed infinitely more intense than the previous contenders. He carried a large sword, something that could’ve sliced Bilbo in two if it was attempted. The blade was pointed at someone, nominating a challenger. No one seemed excited anymore, the energy of the audience dropping to near silence.  
Bilbo might have wondered why his hallucination was in such great detail if his mind hadn’t been so clouded by the drink.  
The nominated warrior stepped to face the wielder of the large sword, raising his own weapon: a hammer with some kind of a pick at the end of it. Bilbo recognized the unusual weapon from somewhere… but couldn’t place it. 

It wasn’t long before the duel began. This battle was for more intense than the last, all feelings of camaraderie fading into memory. This was not for sheer enjoyment or even for a reward of some kind. This was clearly a fight for respect, and honor. The drink soon began to taste less sweet to Bilbo, the tension in the room draining him of joy. He started to feel anxious, afraid for the fate of the contestants in this imaginary battle. Imaginary? Bilbo began to question reality, a feeling of unpleasant dizziness sweeping over him.  
The sword crashed onto the shoulder of the dwarf with the mattock, a scream of unbearable pain cutting through the tense air, forcefully shoving Bilbo to get closer to what was going on. 

Thorin- That was Thorin’s sword, of course! Bilbo’s mind rushed around in circles, trying to piece together his hallucination with reality. Fili and Kili had been the first fighters, and now it was Thorin in the ring, fighting Bofur, causing the piercing screams.  
Bilbo knew he had ot do something but his muscles had not yet begun to respond to his mental commands. He shouted some nonsense that was supposed to be ‘Stop it, Thorin,’ and staggered forward, drunken courage empowering him to try to stand between the king and the toymaker. But his brave efforts were thwarted by his drinking, and he fell to the floor in the center of the ring of dwarves. He saw Thorin come kneel over him, then everything went black. 

Bofur laid on the floor also, clutching his bloody shoulder and crying out in pain. Balin tended to him calmly, Dwalin allowing no one else to get near the wounded  
toymaker. 

“You’ll be alright, lady,” the old dwarf assured him, although he couldn’t make any promises. The injury was severe to be sure. “Thorin, this was to be a friendly battle, not a venue for your anger!”

“You’ll not tell me, your king, what I am to do or not do, Balin!” Thorin roared, scooping Bilbo up into his arms and carrying him to the room Beorn had set aside for the two of them. “I’ll take care of you, Bilbo,” He whispered to his unconscious hobbit. 

“I’m sorry,” The great king said even quieter, making sure that no one could hear. “I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! Whoo!:P I hope y'all like this. I think I've figured out how this fic is going to end. Some people might like it, some people might hate it, and I think most people will cry, muahahaha! :) but there's still plenty of time to go, I'll try to update more regularly. Comment your thoughts and ideas! :D

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting anything online, I just hope you like it:)
> 
>  
> 
> Someone fabulous derided to do an illustration! Check it out, it's adorable!:)  
> http://butterycrumpets.tumblr.com/image/47177418763


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